


Not Just a Blood Bag

by unifiedbuzzard



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Bath Sex, Beating, Bondage, Branding, Cock Rings, Double Penetration, Drugged Sex, Edging, Enemas, F/M, Fisting, Forced Orgasm, Frottage, Gang Rape, Hurt/Comfort, Leashes, M/M, Medical Kink, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Punishment, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rimming, Self-Harm, Sounding, Suicide Attempt, This Has Just Become a Porn Fest, This Is Sick And I Am Sick, Torture, Vaginal Sex, Whipping, but still mostly porn, every chapter is porn, shock collar, somehow this developed a plot, spider gag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-04-25 03:24:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 64,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4944895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unifiedbuzzard/pseuds/unifiedbuzzard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Be careful with that one," comes the Organic Mechanic's voice again. "He's a universal donor. And a real fighter. Wouldn't want to get him back broken."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was mostly inspired by a post I saw on tumblr a few months ago. (http://tennyboo.tumblr.com/post/120163811615/i-just-dont-get-whereall-the-porn-isis-it)
> 
>  
> 
> I’m a little ashamed of how long this is getting, but people keep egging me on.  
> If you want to skip to a specific chapter:
> 
> 1: Max/Rictus, anal, oral  
> 2: Max/Warboys, anal, gang rape, forced orgasm  
> 3: Max/Breeders, breeding stock and prostate milking  
> 4: Max/Rictus, bondage, leash play, anal and oral  
> 5: Max/Warboys, anal and oral, spider gag, Max/Organic Mechanic, 'exam'  
> 6: Max/Rictus, anal, forced orgasm  
> 7: Max/Joe, torture, edging  
> 8: Max/Organic Mechanic, fisting, threats, drugs  
> 9: Max/blood bag, frottage, Max/Warboys, Max/Rictus, bath sex, rimming  
> 10: Max/OM, sounding, orgasm denial, Max/breeder/Rictus  
> 11: Max/Rictus, aphrodisiac  
> 12: Max/Joe, anal and oral  
> 13: Max/Joe, anal, branding, whipping  
> 14: Max/Rictus, forced comfort sex? 69  
> 15: Max/Organic Mechanic, paralysis, enema, Max/Rictus, punishment

People come and go down below, and Max watches life go on without him. He gives life, sometimes, against his will, forced to hang by his ankles as they make him bleed into another. But that's all his days amount to anymore. This is what his life has become. He's nothing but a thing.  
  
A giant hulk of a man walks in to the room. Unlike the Warboys, he's not painted a skeletal white. Max watches him silently from his cage, barely moving. The man disappears behind Max's back.  
  
"I want one."  
  
"Is it playtime again, Rictus?"  
  
The man grunts affirmative.  
  
"Alright, take your pick."  
  
It's silent for a long moment. He sees the man come back into view, inspecting each blood bag, then he disappears from view again.  
  
"That one."  
  
Max tenses. The voice is close, and he can practically feel the finger pointing at his back. He turns his head slowly to look and meets the eye of the man staring straight at him.  
  
"Alright, bring 'im down, boys."  
  
Max braces in his cage. They bring out the taser stick. His muscles spasm painfully, and he slips. They lock his usual muzzle to his face again, barely impaired by his struggling, and then they bring him down to the platform below him.  
  
Rictus approaches and lifts him up by his shoulders, both hands gripping tight. Max struggles instinctually, but the man looks to be a good foot taller than Max, with the strength to back it up.  
  
"Be careful with that one," comes the Organic Mechanic's voice again. "He's a universal donor. And a real fighter. Wouldn't want to get him back broken."  
  
"I'm careful!" Rictus says defensively. "I won't hurt him."  
  
"Much," the Organic Mechanic adds with a disgusting laugh.  
  
Max suddenly finds himself thrown over a massive shoulder, his head just barely missing one of the oxygen tanks strapped to the man's back. One hand is on his hip to hold him steady, the other holds one of his ankles in a vice-like grip. Max's hands are still bound, and he can barely move. The man carries him away, and he watches the floor pass by below him.  
  
They go a long way, through tunnels and across a bridge high in the air. Max considers trying to throw himself over the edge as the man sways on the rickety platform. He doesn't like the sound of this "playtime" the Organic Mechanic had mentioned. He doesn't try to throw himself to his death, though. This place may be a living hell, but his instinct to survive is too strong. He'll have to find another way out of this.  
  
Rictus brings him to a large room and locks the door behind them. Max looks around the edges of the man's back. The room is well furnished. There's a bed, a table and chairs, and a number of shelves. Some of the shelves are laid out with weaponry, guns mostly, but some are lined with a multitude of baby dolls. Max shudders at their staring eyes.  
  
The room flips suddenly and Max finds himself thrown onto the large bed. He jumps up immediately, not caring that his ankles are still tied, but the man grasps his muzzle and shoves him back down. Panic is starting to rise in Max's chest now.  
  
"Shhhhh…" Still holding him down by his face, Rictus begins stroking his hair gently with his other hand. Max fights, a sound like lava rushing through his head. The man just waits, stroking his hair, his face, his neck, his chest, until Max has strained himself in his desperate struggles, and finally lays still, only his chest heaving.  
  
"You're mine, Blood Bag," Rictus whispers, leaning down to look in his eyes. But Max's eyes are wild, barely lucid.  
  
The hand on the muzzle slips down quickly to grip the handle on the bottom edge, and Max groans painfully as he lifts him up by his head, bringing them face-to-face again. Max tries to support himself with his tied arms, but his weight still hangs mostly from his neck.  
  
A large, broad tongue flicks out and licks along the bars of Max's muzzle. Max grimaces, making an incoherent noise of disgust, and tries pointlessly to turn his head away. The tongue retreats, only to emerge again, this time sliding up the side of Max's face. The man's other hand pets the back of Max's head gently. Max is shaking again as the tongue returns to the bars of his muzzle, sliding across the metal barely an inch from his lips.  
  
"No, no," It's the first time Max has used words since long before he was captured. He doesn't want this.  
  
But the other man doesn't even react to his words. He licks his face again, slowly, like he owns Max, then eventually lowers him to the bed again. He pins him with a hand on his chest and a knee across his legs, his other hand fumbling with Max's trousers.  
  
"No, please." Max is getting more desperate, his eyes wide in terror. Even in the worst of his nightmares, this is not a torment Max had ever even imagined receiving here. His body jerks and fights in desperation, but Rictus has him well pinned.  
  
Finally succeeding at undoing Max's trousers, Rictus yanks them down roughly until he's halted by Max's knee brace. Max starts to hyperventilate, all his muscles tensed against his captor. Please, not this. Anything but this.  
  
But it doesn't stop. Rictus lets his weight off him, but grips his arm and quickly flips him over. He presses him into the bed as Max thrashes again, his voice rising in terrified grunts and yells. Rictus grips his bound wrists, pressing them into the middle of his back as he grabs a handful of Max's rounded ass. Max hisses, jerking his body.  
  
The hand kneads Max's ass for a minute, then retreats and Max hears the jingling of belt buckles. He tenses again, pressing his eyes shut, not daring to look over his shoulder. He feels a heavy belt fall beside him, then hears the rustle of fabric and a quiet chuckle. Rictus spits into his hand, and Max is about to shake out of his skin in the silence that follows. His breath echoes in his ears too loudly, drowning everything else out.  
  
Without warning, Rictus spreads Max with both hands and forces himself into his ass. Or tries to. He's barely got the head of his cock buried in his victim when Max is already screaming in pain, his body jerking, his hands scrabbling at nothing. The man is huge, and his meager attempt at lubrication had done next to nothing. He feels like his flesh is going to tear, and he knows the man isn't even that deeply in him. There's no way he can take more. But Rictus presses in hard, grunting, forcing himself deeper into Max with each thrust. Max is nearly sobbing by the time Rictus is all the way into him. It's too much. Too big. Too painful. He shakes in agony as his flesh stretches.  
  
And then Rictus stills, pressing his chest against Max's back and stroking the side of his head until his pained yells and shaking die down to ragged gasps. He presses a kiss against the seal burned into the back of Max's neck.  
  
When he thinks the blood bag is ready (Max will never be ready for this), he fucks hard but slow, gripping Max's hips as he makes deep thrusts into him. Max grunts painfully with each one, trying not to cry out again. It gets a bit easier, their flesh eventually slides together more smoothly, but the pain never goes away. He is stretched impossibly around the cock inside him. Max thinks he may pass out.  
  
Rictus rides him, sliding in and out in powerful strokes, his hips slapping against Max's bare ass. Max can feel his breath hot and heavy against the back of his neck. The man groans in pleasure.  
  
Rictus eventually lets go of his hips and starts grinding into him instead, his long cock pressed in deep, his hands sliding up Max's body, pushing his shirt up as they go. Max bites his own lip hard, his eyes clenched shut as the enormous cock hits parts within him he had never felt before. His body twitches compulsively, and Max buries his face into the bed below him in shame. His stomach twists and retches, but there's nothing for him to throw up.  
  
Rictus hits a spot that makes Max twitch, a small moan escaping his throat, then hits it again. He starts thrusting into it, bringing tormented cries out of Max again, his body jolting. The pain mixed with unwanted pleasure is too much for him. It seems an agonizing eternity before Rictus finally convulses in orgasm, cumming hard into Max with a loud groan. Max can feel it filling him up, and he shudders.  
  
After a minute of recovery, the larger man finally lifts himself up and pulls out, leaving Max gasping for breath on the bed below him. Half of Max's brain screams "fight," the other screams "flee." But his body won't move either way. Too much pain.  
  
Rictus lays down beside Max's shaking form, stroking his hair and neck again.  
  
"Da' won't share his pretties," he explains sadly as Max's breathing finally starts to slow. "So I have'ta do it with blood bags. Got no one else." His finger traces around the burn on Max's neck. Max shivers. "But I like you, Blood Bag." He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of Max's head. "You're a good one."  
  
They lay in silence for a long time, the only sound is that of Max's ragged breathing, trying to hold back the whimpers that threaten to rise in his throat.

 

*****

  
  
Max thought his mouth would be safe from violation, if not because he was known to bite, then at least because he wore the muzzle (the only time he had been thankful for it). But his gut sinks as he feels Rictus fumble with the lock on the back his head, sliding a key into it. _Oh no no nononono_. Max jerks away, yanking the lock out of the other man's hands. He rolls, sending an agonizing shot of pain through his already aching ass, and finds himself in a heap on the floor beside the bed. _Get out get out get out._ But his ankles are still tied, his trousers still down around his knees. He tries to stand anyway. He grimaces as he feels cum leak down his leg.  
  
As he rises on his knees, he finds Rictus sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at him. He reaches out for his face again, and Max jerks away. The noise like lava powers through Max's head again, blocking out his senses for a moment as terror overtakes him. He shudders and writhes, and when he comes back to his senses, he finds that large hand gripping the bottom of his muzzle again.  
  
One hand grips the back of Max's neck hard (bringing tears to his eyes and a grunt to his throat as it presses against his brand wound) and the other moves back to the lock at the back of his skull. The muzzle loosens, and is lifted away from Max's face. Max struggles against he grip on his neck. This man could snap him easily, but Max doesn't care. It would be a mercy if he did. He curls his lips back, baring his teeth with a feral sound. He **will** bite.  
  
Dropping the muzzle on the floor with a clank, Rictus reaches to stroke the side of Max's now-uncovered face. Max snaps his teeth at the hand, but it continues toward him. Fingertips run through the short hair on Max's cheek. He twists his head and bites, but the fingers slip out of the way just in time, and then Max finds his face sandwiched between the two broad hands. He snorts and struggles, but doesn't have the strength to win.  
  
A thumb forces its way into the side of Max's mouth. He grunts, opening his jaw to try to bite again, but Rictus takes the opportunity to wedge the digit between his teeth, back between his molars, not even seeming to care when Max bites down hard. His fingers curl around the back of Max's head, and he yanks him closer, in between his legs. Max pulls backward, making a desperate noise around the thumb in his mouth, his eyes flicking away from and then back to the cock he's being drawn towards.  
  
Max squeezes his eyes shut, trying to twist away one last time as Rictus guides his flaccid cock into Max's forced-open mouth. It slides between his lips and his teeth, pushing his tongue down, and Max immediately gags.  
  
Rictus moans and grows hard in the soft warmth of Max's mouth, and Max feels sick. He tightens his jaw against the digit holding his mouth open, but again, it doesn't seem to bother his rapist. He opens his jaw instead and tries to twist away, to get the thumb out from between his teeth, but he can't move his head. The hand around the back of his head pulls firmly, and the thick cock slides further into his mouth. Max struggles all the way, but one final shove from Rictus forces his cock down Max's throat. Max chokes and his stomach heaves again. Rictus lets up a little bit, lets Max pull away, only to force him back down on him again.  
  
As Max chokes and gags around him, Rictus starts fucking him hard. He thrusts into his mouth, bobbing Max's head at the same time, repeatedly smashing his face into his groin as he rams his cock down his throat again and again. Max struggles just to breathe, catching only small gasps of air between thrusts. He's on the verge of passing out when Rictus suddenly stops, perhaps keyed off by the fact that Max is no longer fighting him. His cock remains in his mouth, pressed against his throat, but not shoved down it, allowing Max to breathe for a minute.  
  
As Max returns to his senses, the grip on the back of his head tightens, and he takes a deep breath, hating that he can't stop this. His eyes squeeze shut again as the penis plunges down his throat. It thrusts hard, in and out of him.  
  
He's on the verge of passing out again when his choking finally gets Rictus off, and the large man shudders and moans. Max is glad at first that the cum goes straight down his throat. At least he won't have to taste it. But as Rictus pulls back to thrust again, even in the midst of his orgasm, Max gets a mouthful. The taste makes his stomach twist. It comes thick and fast, and Max swallows a bit of it as Rictus re-enters his throat, but most of it spills from his mouth, running down his chin.  
  
When Rictus finally comes down from his high, he's still down Max's throat, and stays there, breathing heavily as he recovers. Max tugs weakly, trying to free himself. He can't breathe. Rictus finally pulls Max off, then pries his thumb from Max's clenched jaw. He releases the back of Max's head, and Max would fling himself away, try to escape, but all he can do is collapse at Rictus' feet and heave his guts out, the taste of the cum filing his mouth again.  
  
He gasps for breath, his head spinning from the lack of oxygen. Rictus stands, pulls up his own trousers, then picks Max up like a rag doll. He's a mess of sweat and tears and cum, the latter covering his chin and starting to run down his neck. Max lashes out like a hurt, terrified animal. He won't be raped again. He can't let that happen. He brings his bound feet up and kicks at the other man's groin, but his feet land just to the left on Rictus' hip. Max pushes hard anyway, tearing himself out of the man's grip, and he lands hard on the floor with a pained grunt. He rolls away as Rictus tries to pin him, but he's going nowhere fast, arms and legs bound as they are.  
  
Rictus picks him up by the back of his neck and tosses him back onto the bed. He gives his ass one last grab before he pulls his trousers up, flips the struggling man over, and fastens the front again. Something triggers in Max's frantic brain that it's finally over, that he won't be violated again, but the panic still won't fade. He lays still for only a moment before the looming figure above him leans down, and his muscles jump into action again. But Rictus quickly pins him, placing a knee on his hip. He grabs the neck of Max's shirt and pulls it up to wipe the cum off Max's face.  
  
Max is still breathing in gasps, the fear apparent in his eyes, but he doesn't fight as Rictus slides the muzzle back onto his face, lifts his head, and locks it.  
  
Max breathes a little easier. It's finally over. Though he knows it will still haunt him in the nights to come. It will never truly be over inside Max's head.  
  
Rictus returns Max to the Warboys' infirmary, hauling him slung over one shoulder again. This time across the bridge between the stone towers, Max **would** throw himself over the edge, if he had the strength. His body is used, abused, and hurting, and he knows that unless he manages to escape this place, it probably won't be the last time. His heart clenches in panic at the thought of it. But Rictus holds him tightly, and even as Max starts to thrash, it does little good.  
  
Thankfully, the Organic Mechanic doesn't ask any questions when Rictus carries Max back in and lays him on the stone ledge below his usual cage. Max grimaces. Every movement hurts his ass. The Organic looks at him briefly, apparently decides he is not all the worse for wear, and directs some Warboys to string him up again.  
  
Rictus gives Max's face a gentle caress before they shove him back into his cage, and Max jerks away with a hiss. He never wants to be touched again. But of course, he's not going to have a choice in the matter.  
  
He tries not to cry out in pain as they muscle him back into his cage, and then he watches Rictus leave. He'll be thankful if he never sees the man again. Max turns his attention to forming an escape plan, trying to force the images of what just happened out of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this was actually any good, so let me know if you liked it.  
> I could also write more. I'll take suggestions, even. Tell me what sick situations you want to see Max go through next.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple people asked for it, so here is more.

Max soon discovers that the Warboys use blood bags for more than just blood, too. He sees it happen to another before it happens to him. He closes his eyes, shuddering at the memory of being violated himself, and wishes he could cover his ears to block out the sounds.   
  
It's only a matter of days before they come for him, too.  
  
The first thing that keys Max off is when a couple of them drop him out of his cage without the Organic Mechanic's say-so. There's no sick Warboy waiting for Max this time. He's instantly tense as he swings by his ankles, looking up at their malicious grins. His first rape is still fresh in his mind. The soreness and pain in his body are gone, but he still frequently remembers it as if it's happening all over again.  
  
They muzzle him, at least. Hopefully it will stay on this time.  
  
With the Warboys, there isn't even any privacy in his violation. No, he gets raped right there where everyone can see and hear. They lower him to the right height, his head almost touching the stone below him. They yank his trousers up to his knees, and Max has to struggle to keep from yelling in fear and rage. He doesn't want to attract more attention to himself than he's already receiving.  
  
There's no pretended foreplay. They do it fast and dirty, one forcing his way into Max's ass right away. Max can't help but cry out as he goes in dry, but he stifles it as best he can. He reaches back with is bound hands, trying to find a way to hurt the boy behind him. He finds flesh, and claws at the thigh violently, causing the Warboy to hiss and leap back, his cock jerking out of Max's ass. A boot connects with the back of Max's head, leaving him swinging by his ankles with an aching skull.  
  
"Damned feral," the boy growls. "Tried to rip my skin off!"  
  
Rope is wrapped and wrapped and wrapped around Max's hands until he can't even move them, his fingers constricted painfully. And then the boy steps up, hands spreading Max open as he penetrates again. Max sucks in a breath between gritted teeth, but remains quiet this time.  
  
The other boy holds Max steady as the first begins pounding into him. Violently, he fucks his ass until Max is crying out again. He can feel all the eyes in the room on him just as he can feel the throbbing cock invading his flesh.  
  
It's rough and fast. The Warboy cums quickly, leaning against Max for a moment afterward before he pulls out, hikes his trousers back up, and the boys switch places. Max's entrance is slicked by now, and the second boy goes in easier, though the stretching is no less painful. Max manages to suppress the pain into a quiet whimper as this boy, too, starts fucking him hard. The boy grips Max's hips tightly, pushing himself in deep.  
  
The one that had already fucked him crouches down to look in his face. Max clenches his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. He doesn't want to look at him. The boy is suddenly pulling at his muzzle, forcing his head up, the bottom of the muzzle pressing into Max's chest. He feels the heat of the boy next to his face, but doesn't open his eyes.  
  
The boy whispers in his ear, but Max can barely hear it over his own grunts as the one behind him continues to rape him. "We're gonna keep fucking you, feral, and make you enjoy it. How do you like that?"  
  
He drops Max's head, and his hand slides up Max's neck, continuing to his chest, stomach, then hips. Max's eyes fly open as he feels the boy wrap his hand around his exposed cock. His whole body clenches, and the boy inside him moans loudly, his hips faltering as he cums.   
  
Max hardly has time to catch his breath before one Warboy is replaced by another. It must be a new one. The first one is still standing in front of him, his hand around Max's cock. The new one pushes into him, jerking just to hurt Max worse, and he laughs as Max's whole body tenses. A thumb circles over the tip of Max's cock, forcing a choked noise out of his throat. The Warboy moves on to rubbing up and down his shaft, timing the strokes with the other boy's agonizingly slow, rolling thrusts.  
  
The pain is bad enough that Max doesn't become aroused, despite the expert way the boy is handling him. It feels good, though, and he hates it. Max grits his teeth as the boy begins palming the head.  
  
"You're not going to get him off like that," the one who just got done fucking him says with a laugh. "Blood's all in his head!"  
  
"Bring him down," the one behind him pants. "I wanna fuck him better 'n this anyway."  
  
He pulls out and they lower Max further, laying him out on the stone seat. Max immediately fights back, kicking and spitting. It takes two of them to pin him on his back before the third can push Max's knees up to his chest and force his still-hard cock back into Max's ass. Max cries out as the boy presses in at this new angle, the boy's hips rolling and his cock hitting unfamiliar nerves. He can feel that this boy is the biggest of the three, and despite having been fucked twice already today, the stretch still hurts. He grimaces, gasping through his clenched teeth.  
  
As the boy presses deep into him, he feels a hand slide between his legs and grip his cock again. He struggles uselessly as the Warboys laugh. This boy also has a skilled touch, stroking and squeezing expertly, but Max is still far from being turned on by any of this.  
  
The boy experiments for a moment, but it's not until he changes the angle of his hips and hits that spot inside Max that forces a moan out of him, that his body gives in and betrays him.  
  
Max curses incomprehensibly and squirms as he feels his blood run south, his cock hardening in the boy's hand. Suddenly the boy's touch feels all the better, and as he continues to thrust into that spot, all reason leaves Max's head and he hears another moan escape him, overlaid by the boys' cruel laughter.   
  
The boy builds Max up slowly, and Max tries to hold back, his body shaking as his vision goes white with every thrust from the boy. But it's been so long since he's felt anything like this, and his body just wants to go with it. The boy presses his thumb into the underside of Max's cock, stroking with just the right amount of pressure as he drives himself especially hard into that spot inside Max, and something in Max breaks. He cries out as he orgasms, his muscles spasming and everything but pleasure flying from his head. He feels his own cum spray across his chest and stomach, soaking his shirt. The boy follows not far behind him, yelling out his own ecstasy. He presses in deeply and squeezes Max hard as he cums, carrying Max along with him until they both collapse in exhaustion.  
  
Max's body is slicked with sweat and his face burns with shame. He keeps his eyes closed as he gasps for breath. He doesn't want to see them.  
  
"Ha, knew you'd like it, blood bag!" One of the boys pats Max's cheek, grinning down at him. "You seemed the type to enjoy a good fucking."  
  
The boy who forced the orgasm out of Max slaps his ass as he pulls out of him, making Max jolt.   
  
Two more boys come to rape him, but Max feels broken and empty. He hardly even reacts as they enter, fuck, and cum.  
  
By the time they're done with him, he's been fucked so many times that cum leaks down the cleft of his cheeks. they pull his trousers up, hang him back up, and put him back in his cage. They finally leave him alone. Left in the aftermath, he sobs quietly in pain and anger and shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still taking suggestions if you want more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, I'm not sure I really like this chapter, but here it is. Hopefully someone will like it.
> 
> This is the result of trying to fill multiple prompts at the same time. 1: A reader asked for someone taking advantage and feeling guilty about it but going ahead with it anyway, and 2: multiple people on the kinkmeme site have asked for Max being used as breeding stock.  
> http://madmaxkink.dreamwidth.org/1321.html?thread=1082409#cmt1082409  
> http://madmaxkink.dreamwidth.org/1321.html?thread=1282089#cmt1282089  
> http://madmaxkink.dreamwidth.org/2704.html?thread=1557648#cmt1557648
> 
> I hope the F/M in this chapter is okay for everyone. Just trying to mix things up a little. Skim to the end for some M/M if you like.

"What is it?" The man's voice is a deep growl, muffled by a hideous toothed breathing mask.  
  
"Just thought I'd make a little suggestion for the breeding program." The Organic Mechanic walks by his side as they enter the infirmary. Warboys stop what they're doing and salute the man reverently as he passes by.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Got a universal donor in a while back. We've put him through the ringer, and he's strong. Heals fast, too. Got a lot of good blood out of him so far." They approach Max's cage and the Organic Mechanic bangs on the bars with the back end of a taser stick. Max flinches with a grunt. "Thought we could get some more O-negatives growin' for future use."  
  
The other man looks Max over critically, making him feel like little more than livestock. "He's healthy?"  
  
"Full-life for sure."  
  
"And you're sure he can breed?"  
  
"Genitals intact. Still haven't managed to break this one yet, though." He prods at Max, and Max growls. "But the boys say it's pretty easy to get him off," he laughs briefly, "so we can either tie him to be ridden, or milk him. He'll breed."  
  
"Do it. I'll have a few breeders assigned to him." The man turns and leaves.  
  
The following day, Warboys come to cut Max down. He makes a break for it, forgetting in his desperation that his ankles are still tied. Max ends up face down on the floor, with Warboys laughing as they pull him up. He's taken, fighting the whole way, into another room where two women wait with heads down. The Warboys force Max to the ground, untie his limbs, and then strip off his clothes. It takes five to force him over to a small bench near the middle of the room and lay him down across it. They tie his arms around the underside of the bench, wrap a rope around his chest and shoulders to keep him down, and chain his ankles loosely to the legs of the bench. Max struggles desperately, trying to get loose. Failing that, he cranes his head up, looking around the room as if there might be a way out, as the Warboys back off, their prisoner properly restrained.  
  
"Alright, ladies. A-1 stud for you here. You know what to do." The Organic Mechanic pats Max's leg before stepping out of the way.  
  
The first one slowly stands up and walks hesitantly over to Max. Max shakes his head frantically. This is wrong. He doesn't want it. He doesn't know if she even wants it. The aim of this is to _impregnate_ her. Panic starts to take hold of him. He can't father a child. Not here. Not like this. He couldn't even do it consensually. He couldn't stand the thought of his own child existing in a world like this. Not after what happened to his son. Knowing the kid would be doomed to subjugation just makes it that much worse.  
  
"No. No no no no no…" He keeps repeating the word, shaking his head as she approaches and stops by his side. She pauses only briefly, then tugs up her rag of a dress and swings her leg over him, settling down over his hips. Max squeezes his eyes shut and lets his head thump against the bench below him. "Can't. Can't. No, please."  
  
He feels her lean forward and opens his eyes when her hand gently touches the side of his face. There's guilt and sadness in her expression.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispers as Max struggles helplessly below her. "I'm so sorry."  
  
Max has made it obvious that he doesn't want to be here, doesn't want this to be happening, and this woman clearly feels bad for her part in it. She strokes his brow, trying to calm him, her guilt keeping her from proceeding with her task. She used to be like him. She used to have to be forced into situations like this, until she finally broke and accepted it as her lot in life. She's not used to seeing the men she's with react like this, though, and it hits her especially hard.  
  
The Organic Mechanic clears his throat, looking at her expectantly. She straightens up, her hand sliding down to Max's chest, and composes herself. This is her task: to become pregnant for the future of humanity. She gives Max one last guilty look, one last whispered "I'm sorry," before she moves down, takes him in her hand, and positions the tip of his cock against her soft folds.  
  
Max's eyes plead with her from behind the bars of his muzzle, but this is her task, and she's determined to see it through, no matter how bad he makes her feel about it. She makes her move, lowering herself onto him.  
  
Max yells incomprehensibly, smashing his head back against the bench again. He grits his teeth as the soft warmth envelops him, triggering some instinctual response inside his body. He shoves it down, trying to suffocate it. If he cums during this, he's giving her his child, and he can't let that happen. She starts moving, up and down, rolling her hips, causing Max to groan at the feeling. He holds out for several minutes, thinking of horrors and the fate of his child rather than the sensations being forced on him. She eventually reaches down, breathing heavily by this point, and strokes his lower stomach a few times, then squeezes her walls around him, and Max loses it. They both moan as he finally grows hard, and Max smashes his head into the bench again, trying to kill his unwanted arousal.  
  
"Don't let him hurt himself!" The Organic Mechanic hisses at the Warboys. One of them approaches and presses his hand down on Max's forehead to stop him from smashing his own head in. The woman continues to ride him, gradually going faster and harder. She builds them both up to a sweat, dragging Max along with her as the physical pleasure sparks through his body. Max bucks his hips hard, desperately trying to throw her off, but she braces herself against his ribs and moans loudly, finally reaching her peak. Her walls tighten around him in pulses as she orgasms, which pushes Max dangerously near the edge himself. She rides dutifully on through her orgasm and presses down on him harder, trying to drive him to his.  
  
Max meets her eyes again, pleading her to stop because he cannot. Her brow creases in guilt and she turns her head away from him, but doesn't stop. She squeezes around him powerfully again, until Max finally breaks and cries out as he orgasms, releasing his seed into her.  
  
He lays gasping and shaking, tears running from the corners of his eyes as she climbs off of him and retreats to where the other woman waits. She looks back at him one last time before she sits down, looking ashamed and apologetic.  
  
The other woman fucks him without much remorse. They had given him only a short break, just long enough to catch his breath, and he's still so exhausted, mentally and physically, that he hardly has it in him to fight it this time. She strokes and squeezes him with her hand to get him hard before she puts him inside herself, and then does everything in her power to stimulate him as she rides him. It's over much more quickly this time, and she leaves Max crying quietly to himself.  
  
He's given them the seed to farm his children, and there's nothing he can do to save them from this life. He probably won't even get to see their faces. He'll never know his own flesh and blood. Max's heart breaks at the thought.  
  
"Alright, out you go." The Organic Mechanic ushers the women out of the room, then turns back to Max. "Well, that was for the willing breeders. Now for the unwilling ones." He waves the Warboys over. One grabs Max's legs and yanks him down along the bench until his ass overhangs the edge. Another carries a glass jar. Max squeezes his eyes shut as the Warboys crowd around him, looking at him hungrily.  
  
"Now. Should be able to get him just like this." The Organic Mechanic reaches under Max and forces a finger into his ass, making Max jolt, his eyes flying open. The Organic Mechanic expertly goes straight for his prostate, pressing his finger hard into it, and Max cries out as unwanted pleasure bursts through him yet again. He presses into it a couple more times, and then the finger retreats. "Just like I showed you. Think you boys can take care of it?" There's a chorus of agreement. The Organic Mechanic moves back to observe from the side. "Milk him dry."  
  
Another finger goes into Max. It fumbles around a bit before finding his prostate, and Max tries to hold himself still when it hits it, but his face betrays him and the Warboy goes for it again, pressing in with a steady rhythm. They've forgotten to hold him down, and he smashes his head against the bench again as he feels arousal stir in his groin. He nearly passes out, but he feels his cock go slack at the pain. There's an angry muttering above him, and one of the Warboys strikes him across the face hard enough to snap his head to the side.  
  
"Behave yourself, feral."  
  
The Warboy below him works his prostate a little harder, and Max feels his cock twitch to life again as the stimulation sends shocks of sensation through him, lighting up his nerves. He lets out an infuriated yell as it comes to full hardness, betraying him. A hand grips his erection, and Max starts to struggle, straining against the rope around his chest so hard that it'll probably bruise later as he thrashes his whole body. The finger slips out of him, the hand loses its grip on his cock, and then another blow lands on his chest, followed by one to the gut. Max falls still, gasping for air. The finger penetrates him again, the hand slips back around him, and Max gives in, too exhausted to stop it. They press and rub, squeeze and stroke, until Max is crying with overstimulation and can feel the now-familiar build of an oncoming orgasm within him.  
  
"There you go, that's good," one of them coos next to his ear. "Feels nice, huh?"  
  
"Get ready," The Organic Mechanic warns as Max's moans get louder and more desperate. They position his cock and the jar to catch his seed, and only a moment later Max cums hard as shudders wrack his body.  
  
He's left limp and weak, sagging back against the bench, feeling utterly drained.  
  
"Good boy," one praises him as he pats his stomach, "See, it's better when you just let it happen."  
  
Max doesn't feel better at all. He's given them another child to use as they will. His chest tightens and a sob bursts from his mouth. The Warboys step back to give him a break, but as soon as the sobs subside and his breathing has calmed some, they descend on him again.  
  
Several more times they drag orgasms out of his worn-out body, until they get so little out of him that they declare him finished and leave him shaking in the aftermath.  
  
"This is good." The Organic Mechanic inspects the jar of semen. "Should get some good, healthy babies out of this."  
  
Max would sob again at those words, if only he had the energy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still open to requests.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this one got long. Enjoy?

The next time Rictus comes, Max has recently been bled. He's lethargic, barely even conscious, when he sees the blurry form of Rictus walk into the room.  
  
"I want that one again."  
  
"So soon? He must have been good." Max can practically hear the Organic Mechanic's disgusting smile. "Well, let me look at him first."  
  
The bottom drops out of his cage and Max falls out, hardly able to fight back. The Organic Mechanic stops his dizzying swinging, his hands around Max's head. His fingers move to Max's face, prying one of his eyes open so he can look into it in the dim light.  
  
"Nah, see, I bled him just today. Too much, lately. He's too weak."  
  
Rictus makes a disappointed sound. Max breathes a sigh of relief. The Organic Mechanic's hands leave him, and Max hangs, glad to have dodged a bullet.  
  
"He doesn't need to be strong," Rictus tries.  
  
"With you? I'll bet he does! Just pick another one for today."  
  
"I don't want any of the others. Just that one."  
  
The Organic Mechanic is silent for a moment. "Did you make him bleed last time?"  
  
Rictus shakes his head.  
  
He makes a surprised _huh_. "Well then, if you really want this one now, I guess you can take him. As long as you're careful, yeah? Give him a break if he's had too much."  
  
Max screws his eyes shut, trying not to panic. Not again. Please not again.  
  
Rictus lifts him up with an arm behind his back, frees his ankles from the rope that holds him up, then scoops him up and cradles him in his arms. Max keeps his head down, refusing to look at Rictus as he carries him away. His heart is racing in fear, and he feels light-headed now that he doesn't have blood rushing to his head.  
  
"You can keep him a while, if you want," the Organic Mechanic calls after Rictus, laughing at Max's expense. "Can't bleed him again for a few days anyway."  
  
Max would like to kill that man.  
  
Max waits for the bridge again. He doesn't see any escape in his future. What other choice is there?  
  
He waits until the center, when Rictus seems the most unsteady, and he bucks suddenly. Rictus was underestimating him. He manages to land on his feet, and starts tipping over the rope railing. He hesitates just too long as he leans forward, the fear of actually dying gripping him suddenly. Rictus grabs a fistful of the back of his shirt and yanks him back up. Max falls against his chest, and Rictus wraps his arms around him, holding him tightly as Max struggles and yells. Max quickly tires himself out, and Rictus finishes carrying him, pressed close to his chest, to the other side of the bridge.  
  
Max jolts at the sound of Rictus locking them in his room, and struggles briefly before falling slack again. He's too exhausted for this. Too exhausted to fight, too exhausted to take the torment about to be dealt to him. But he has no choice. He feels so broken down.  
  
Rictus lays him carefully on the bed. He's gentle, when he's not raping Max. Max lays still, wishing he were dead and waiting to take Rictus' will, knowing there's nothing he can do to stop it. Not last time, and certainly not in the state he's in right now.  
  
His eyes open in surprise as he feels a knife slash through the bonds around his ankles. He's momentarily frozen, his brain drudging through slow thought processes as Rictus moves behind him, pushes him up and cuts through the rope around his wrists. He's free. They even forgot to muzzle him, he realizes slowly. A moment later instinct kicks in and he bolts, flinging himself off the bed and running for the door. His legs almost give out on him, and he slams against the closed door, fumbles with the lock, flings the door open, and runs into the hallway. Rictus catches him quickly, gripping one wrist and yanking Max back. Max lashes out with the other hand, punching with all his limited strength, but the blows don't even garner a reaction. Rictus grabs his other wrist and drags the struggling captive back into the room. He pauses to close and re-lock the door, holding Max by one wrist, then crosses the room and falls onto the bed, pinning Max below him.  
  
Max can feel, as Rictus shifts atop him, that he's already hard for him. This is it. He's going to be raped again, he thinks as darkness starts to fade over his vision, exertion from the brief escape getting to his worn-out body. His head throbs, his muscles burn.  
  
"I told you, you're mine, Blood Bag." Rictus runs his tongue up the side of Max's face. Max doesn't react, his eyes slipping shut as he passes out.  
  
Rictus busies himself with stripping Max. He pulls his shirt over his head carefully, trying not to rouse him from his unconscious state. He fiddles with Max's leg brace for a moment before that, too, slips off of him. Next are his boots, and then his trousers, which Rictus opens carefully and pulls down slowly, tossing them aside when they're free of Max's legs.  
  
He steps back, staring at his prisoner's naked body, and slowly strips his own clothes off. Max's breathing gradually quickens as he comes to, and he tries to pull himself out of his stupor, aware that he's completely exposed now. His muscles twitch and tighten as he feels Rictus move back onto the bed, hovering over him. He braces himself for the attack. Instead, Rictus moves aside, reaches for something near the headboard, and pulls it toward them. Max peels his eyes open to see a narrow metal collar attached to a chain. His muscles tense on reflex, and he shoots upright suddenly, pushing himself to the edge of the bed, fear spiking again. Rictus catches him with an arm around his waist.  
  
What results is another struggle that, of course, ends with Max collared to the bed, gasping, again exhausted from the effort. And Rictus hasn't even started yet. Max pulls at the locked metal collar and fights his own body, wanting to fight and flee but weighed down the paralyzing heaviness of his limbs. Rictus guides him carefully down onto his knees next to the bed, and Max struggles briefly as Rictus presses him into the side of the mattress.  
  
Max's eyes dart about in terror. He remembers the last time, remembers how much it hurt. He doesn't think he can take that again.  
  
Rictus stretches to reach for something, and all is quiet behind Max for a minute. Max tries to steady his breath and think of a way to stop this.  
  
He jerks his hips forward as a finger suddenly presses between his cheeks, slicked with oil. Rictus probes into him, smearing the oil around his hole and inside of him. The finger retreats for a moment, then two return, covered in fresh oil. Max groans as the two fingers enter him simultaneously, stretching him. They rub inside of him, pressing into sensitive flesh, making Max writhe in discomfort. And then they pull, spreading wide and stretching Max further, bringing a short yell out of him.  
  
The fingers spread Max a few more times, but Rictus is impatient. He removes his fingers, then grips Max's hips, hoists him up, and bends him over the side of the bed, pressing a palm flat between Max's shoulder blades as Max struggles. Rictus lines himself up and knees Max's legs apart as he prepares to enter.  
  
Rictus' hips are bucking needily before he even gets into Max. He misses a few times, then hits his mark and presses in sharply, causing Max to jolt with pain. Max squeezes his eyes shut, gripping two fistfuls of the sheets below him, and grits his teeth, but he can't hold back the scream that rises in his throat. Rictus presses forward eagerly, sliding himself in deeper and deeper. Max's flesh protests the stretch, trying to keep Rictus out and shooting pain through Max's whole body. When he's balls-deep in Max, Rictus pauses only a moment before he pulls back and slams in again, pushing Max's whole body forward with the force of it.  
  
Rictus pants as he sets up a rhythm, grunting with the effort. He builds up steam, pounding into his struggling captive as his own pleasure grows. Max cries out as he's brutally raped, each thrust somehow worse than the last. He tries to push himself up, desperate to get away from the agony, but Rictus shoves him back down, pressing his face into the bed. Max struggles, gasping. He can't take it.  
  
And then everything goes dark again, the pain dropping away as he loses consciousness.  
  
Rictus halts as the groans and cries stop and Max goes slack beneath him. He panics a moment, but Max is still breathing. Just passed out. Reluctantly, he pulls out and moves Max onto the bed, laying him out on his back.  
  
Max awakes, he doesn't know how much later, and groans at the throbbing pain. Rictus is instantly beside him, hovering over him, looking at him in concern. He strokes the side of Max's face as Max comes to his senses. The memory of where he is returns, and Max's eyes shoot open suddenly. He's met by Rictus' concerned face, and he clamps them back shut. He feels sick, his body overly hot, and his heart pounds as his head starts to spin again.  
  
After a minute, Rictus moves down on the bed to below Max, and spreads his legs. Max's breath catches in his throat, and he's back to fighting. He kicks and struggles weakly, but Rictus grips his ankles, holding him still. Max tries to sit up, reaching out to fight Rictus, but he chokes as he reaches the end of the chain on his collar and is forced to collapse back onto the bed.  
  
When Max finally falls still again, gasping, Rictus pulls Max's legs around his waist, settling down onto him. Max looks at him in terror. Taking himself in hand, Rictus guides himself slowly back into him, watching with fascination as Max's eyes crumple shut, his head tilts back and he cries out.  
  
He fucks slow and careful this time, pulling Max's legs tighter around him as he presses in deep before pulling back to the head and then sliding back in. He grips Max's wrists, pinning his arms to the bed as he looms over him. Max groans with each slow press into him, feeling like Rictus is somehow filling up his entire body. Rictus bends forward, pressing his face into Max's neck, and licks along it, following the vein that has been pierced so many times. His hips rise and fall, gradually picking up speed. It's a slow build, and Max is panting in exhaustion and pain by the time Rictus finally cums, moaning quietly against Max's throat.  
  
He pulls out just as slowly as he had fucked him, and lies down beside him, pulling Max's shaking body close to his chest. He strokes his hair sleepily.  
  
Rictus keeps him overnight. It's one of the most uncomfortable nights Max can remember, even counting all the nights he's had to sleep sitting up in that damn cage. In any other situation, getting to sleep on a real bed might have been a rare luxury to Max, but it certainly wasn't when he had to lay in the arms of a man who had raped him.  
  
When Rictus rolls over in his sleep and lets go of Max, Max moves carefully up on the bed to inspect the leash where it attaches to the headboard. He tries not to jingle the chain, afraid it will wake his captor. It's wrapped around one of the poles and locked with a padlock. He's not getting away. He moves to see if he can get his hands on some kind of weapon, but there's nothing within the limited reach of his leash, and he falls back onto the bed, defeated.  
  
Max wakes in the morning to arms wrapping sleepily around his waist, a face pressing into his stomach. Everything hurts, his body and especially his ass aching with soreness from the previous night's activities. The pain lances through him as he moves, and he jumps into consciousness suddenly. He lashes out on reflex like he has so many times when nightmares drag him from his sleep. One fist smashes into a sturdy shoulder, and he brings his elbow down on Rictus' head, making the man jolt to full awakeness. He rubs his head with an indignant groan and scowls up at Max. Max looks down at him in panic as the larger man rolls over and pushes himself up.  
  
"That wasn't nice, Blood Bag." He grips Max's jaw tightly. "Gonna have to train you." He pushes Max down into the bed and stares him down, but rather than going further, he gets up suddenly, dresses himself, and leaves without a word. Max is momentarily confused, but quickly jumps back into trying to get out of the collar, now that he's not at risk of waking Rictus up. The pain of moving is excruciating, but he pushes it down. The collar is strong, the chain strong, and the padlocks strong. The leash is so short that he can barely even leave the bed, much less reach any of the shelves. His trousers, however, are just within reach. He stretches to retrieve them, and slips them on quickly. They make him feel a little more secure, and he notices that he feels a little stronger today than he did yesterday.  
  
Rictus returns carrying a dish of food, and Max stops pulling at the chain and turns warily to look at him as the scent reaches his nose. He's only given food once a day in the infirmary, and it's barely enough. His mouth waters desperately as he's reminded of his hunger. Whatever Rictus has looks substantially better than the slop Max has gotten used to being fed since he got here, too.  
  
Rictus does not miss the look in Max's eyes. He smiles. "You hungry, Blood Bag?" Max doesn't respond. "You have to be good." He sits out of Max's reach and eats about half of what's on the dish. Max sees meat and fruit and something that looks like bread, and he tries not to stare. He sits back against the headboard with his knees against his chest until Rictus sets down the dish and turns his attention to Max. Max tries to escape as Rictus moves toward him, but it's not Max he's going for. He brings out a key and unlocks the chain from the headboard. Max bolts. The chain is longer than the short length that had been given to him on the bed, though, and Rictus catches it before it slips completely through his fingers, stopping Max's escape quickly. No longer carried by his momentum, Max's bad knee buckles painfully under him and he falls to the floor, gagging and choking against the collar as Rictus wraps the chain around his hand and moves off the bed.  
  
"Have'ta be good," Rictus repeats, tugging lightly on the chain. "Come here." Max doesn't move. Rictus pulls harder. "I said come here."  
  
Max glares at him over his shoulder, and Rictus scowls, then yanks hard on the chain, sending Max toppling backward. He pulls hand over hand, dragging Max toward him as Max chokes and grabs desperately at the collar. When Max is at Rictus' feet, Rictus smashes a foot into his ribs. Max scrambles up to his knees and tries to get away, but Rictus holds the leash tight, lifting his foot to kick again.  
  
Suddenly, Rictus stops and looks at his cringing captive. He stands still for a minute, shock on his face, then crouches down, holding the leash tight as Max tries to shy away. "I'm sorry," he says gently, reaching out to pet Max's hair. "I didn't mean to do that. I got mad." Max shakes under his touch.  
  
Rictus soon learns that no amount of gentle force, no amount of coaxing with food, and no amount of false threats will get Max to obey him. He doesn't want to resort to actually hurting him. He likes his blood bag. He does find himself frustrated, however, and realizes that seeing the other man on the end of a chain stirs something within him. He had hoped he could tame the feral without resorting to violence. He wanted to feel his soft mouth around him again without his thumb jammed between his jaws, but he has to accept that that isn't going to happen. He tries a little longer anyway, holding the leash with a firm hand and trying to get Max to come to him, or at least sit still and let Rictus approach without trying to run. He eventually gives up as his fed-up blood bag growls at him and threatens to bite when Rictus reaches out to touch him.  
  
Deciding on a different course of action, Rictus pounces. He pushes Max back against the floor, straddling his hips and holding them in a vice-like grip between his knees as he struggles to pin Max's arms down. He wraps the chain around Max's wrists and body, pulling his arms tight against his chest one by one. Finally he hauls him up, grasps one of the chains across Max's back as he tries to run, and pulls him back over toward the bed. Rictus shoves his own trousers down, freeing his constrained cock. He slides his hand around Max's waist and undoes his trousers, pushing them down just far enough.  
  
Faced with rape again, Max panics and begins to plead. "No no no no, please, don't-" He's cut off by Rictus' hand wrapping carefully around his neck.  
  
"Shhhh," Rictus pulls Max toward him and kisses the back of his head. This is what he wants now, and he's not going to stop, even if his blood bag were to promise to obey him. He sits back on the bed, and pulls on the loose end of the chain, tugging Max onto his lap.  
  
Max is already exhausted from the struggle that resulted in his current situation. His chest heaves. He's not as strong as he felt he was this morning. There's still too little blood pumping through his veins. But as he feels Rictus' hardness press up against his lower back, he struggles anew, trying to push himself up and away. Rictus holds him tight, trying to soothe him with soft words. He lifts Max up, fits himself against his hole, and then pulls Max down onto him, penetrating deep in one quick motion. He pets him with a soft "shhh," as Max yells through the initial pain.  
  
Rictus rolls his hips carefully at first, then starts rocking them in deeper and deeper thrusts. Max writhes atop him, his back arching as Rictus pulls down hard on the chain wrapped around him, his other hand on his ribs to hold him steady. Max chokes back periodic screams until they fade into breathy, wordless exclamations of pain. Rictus moans into his shoulder, nipping at his skin and enjoying the sounds Max makes.  
  
The exhaustion finally gets to Max and he falls back against Rictus' chest, even as the man thrusts hard into his ass. Rictus pulls Max's head back and checks that he's not unconscious again. He strokes his hair back from his sweaty forehead and kisses his temple as he continues to fuck him.  
  
When Max manages to sit up again and tries uselessly to pull away from the agony lancing through his body, Rictus leans back against one arm and bucks hard into him. His moans get louder as he gets closer to orgasm, and finally he cums, his back arched in pleasure and his hips jerking in short fast thrusts as Max shakes and grits his teeth.  
  
Max feels horribly full as Rictus comes down from his orgasm, pulls him back against his chest again and just holds him, breathing against him deeply. When he finally releases Max and the chain, Max barely manages to sit up with a grimace and a groan, but can't get his legs to work well enough to pull himself off of Rictus and stand. He remains impaled on the man's huge cock. Finally he rolls to the side and slumps to the floor, crying quietly as the pain slowly subsides into a body-wide ache. He barely has the will to move when Rictus finally stands and lifts his limp body to unwrap the tight chain and lay him on the bed.  
  


*****

  
Taking the Organic Mechanic up on his offer, Rictus keeps Max for two more days, and over the course of those two days, he rapes him three more times. Max is helpless to stop him. By the third time, he finally gets Max to use his mouth without biting. He had denied him food and water until Max was desperate enough that he would come willingly for a small drink, and let Rictus pet his hair and stroke his face for a morsel of food. At the promise of an entire meal and a large glass of water, set temptingly just out of Max's reach, Max gives Rictus a single, shameful nod when Rictus asks if he'd promise not to bite him.  
  
Max refuses come to him or willingly put his mouth on him, but he sits still, scrunching his eyes shut as Rictus pins him to the headboard and presses himself against his lips before sliding in. Disgust overwhelms Max, but his desperate thirst and hunger overwhelm him more, and he takes it with only the slightest whimper. It's a struggle not to bite down on reflex as Rictus shoves his way down Max's throat, but he manages it, even as he chokes violently. Rictus uses him more slowly this time, taking his time and enjoying it immensely.  
  
"Use your tongue and I'll give you more water," Rictus offers breathily above him, pulling back before shoving his entire length into Max's mouth again.  
  
Max almost doesn't, but he's so thirsty, he thinks he could drink gallons before he'd feel slaked, and the sip of water Rictus had given him to moisten his dry mouth and throat before fucking him had only made him want water even more. Max balls his hands into fists, hating himself as he starts to move his tongue in hesitant, unsure motions. Rictus moans and pets him encouragingly, holding himself back from Max's throat to let him circle his tongue around the head a few times before he shoves in again, feeling Max's tongue press hard along the underside of his shaft.  
  
To Max's relief, the added stimulation pushes Rictus over the edge quickly, and he cums down Max's throat and into his mouth again. This time Max swallows, his hunger and thirst taking over with animalistic need. He sucks on him as he does, unintentionally drawing Rictus' orgasm out. When Rictus finally finishes with him, he pulls out agonizingly slowly, then bends down and kisses Max's forehead. "Good Blood Bag."  
  
He gives him the promised reward, and Max almost spills the water in his rush to drink it down. He tries not to think about what he just did for this, feeling disgust with himself bubble up again, and he grabs the second glass of water from Rictus' hand. He empties it and starts on the food, wolfing it down with the desperation of a man who hasn't eaten in three days. It's good food, better than he's eaten in years, but he doesn't even taste it until it's half gone and he finally manages to slow down and take it in reasonable bites.  
  
When he's cleared the dish, he shies away from Rictus' attempt to stroke him again, and curls up on the very corner of the bed, feeling shame overtake him.  
  
Later that evening, Rictus gives Max his clothing back and guards him carefully as he lets him dress unchained, then puts him back on a leash and leads him through the Citadel, making sure to use a bridge that is enclosed on all sides this time. Max pulls and struggles most of the way, but Rictus outmuscles him easily, and Max is worn out and resisting only weakly by the time they reach the room where the blood bags are held. His body is more sore than he's ever felt it, and he stumbles, nearly falling.  
  
Max knows there's no escape, not with Rictus around, but that doesn't stop him from giving the Warboys a hard time as they tie his wrists behind his back and bind his ankles together. He hides his shame behind anger and snarls at them, hoping they won't find out that he gave in to Rictus. The Organic Mechanic isn't happy with the state of Max when he comes to examine him, holding his drooping head up by a fistful of hair. Not eating and hardly drinking for three days certainly didn't help Max recover any of his lost blood.  
  
"This is my best donor! You have to take better care of him if you want to keep using him, Rictus."  
  
Rictus agrees guiltily, stroking Max's back as if in apology to him. The Organic Mechanic accepts it begrudgingly, and Max loses sight of his hope that he might deny Rictus' request next time he comes for him.  
  
When Max is free of his collar, back in his cage, and Rictus has finally left, he buries his face against his folded knees and lets himself shake with tears of helplessness. This would not be the last time, and he knows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got another chapter or two in the works, but keep the suggestions coming!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filling multiple prompts again. This is for a kinkmeme prompt asking for Warboys using a spider gag http://madmaxkink.dreamwidth.org/1321.html?thread=976169#cmt976169  
> and for a couple requests for the Organic Mechanic being creepy and teasing.

The Warboys start getting creative.   
  
A group of them happens to come in while he’s being bled again, and the Organic Mechanic makes them wait, but as soon as the needle’s out of his neck they pounce and drag him down and away. His head spins. It’s difficult for him just to figure out what’s going on.  
  
They take him to an adjacent room filled with medical supplies and an exam table, and hold him. He feels his muzzle come off. Max looks around, disoriented. They’re saying something, but he can’t quite put together full sentences in the mess of words, multiple voices all talking excitedly. His mind feels like it’s working in slow motion. He makes out ‘mouth’ and ‘lips,’ and figures it out quickly. They’ve tried this before, and he bit. He’ll bite again before he’ll let them use him like that, even if it earns him another beating.  
  
A hand comes to rest on the side of his face, and the thumb runs over his lips. He snaps his teeth, but his reaction is too slow. The Warboys laugh.  
  
One Warboy dangles something in his face with a self-satisfied grin. “You won’t be biting this time, feral.”   
  
Max focuses in on the object, but can’t quite figure out what it is. There are two straps connected to a metal ring, which has four evenly-spaced, short metal rods curving out from it. It looks like it’s made of parts out of some machine, welded together by one of the Warboys.  
  
Hands suddenly grip his head from behind, and another grips his chin. Max makes a startled, scared noise, but clamps his jaw shut as they try to pull his mouth open. He struggles and fights them, until he’s on the ground, several boys working at his mouth before they finally pry it open and shove the object in. They pull the straps around the back of his head and cinch them tight.  
  
His teeth grind on the metal ring holding his mouth open as he fights it, even knowing that it’s too late. It’s cold against his tongue and tastes like dirt and motor oil. The metal rods curving out of his mouth pull his lips back slightly, and the rough ends press against his face, one of the sharper ones already cutting into his skin. Max’s stomach twists as he takes gasping breaths through his open mouth.  
  
He’s helpless against the multitude of hands as they pull him up to his knees, and he watches a number of trousers slide down, including his own. One boy drops to his knees behind Max, pushing his bound wrists up along his back, out of the way. Another steps up in front of him. Max looks up at the leering face above him, then clamps his eyes shut. He struggles, but he’s weak from blood loss, and multiple hands hold him still.  
  
They penetrate at the same time. Max’s pained groan as one cock forces its way into his ass is cut off by the one that fills his mouth. The Warboy grips the sides of Max’s head as he slides in easily, pushing against the back of Max’s throat, making him gag.  
  
The boy moans and gives a little thrust. “Perfect. Nice and wet and hot.”  
  
The boy behind him thrusts rapidly, bringing tears to Max’s eyes as their dry skin rubs together painfully. He whimpers quietly as they sandwich him between them and fuck him eagerly. It’s almost too much, being assaulted on two fronts at once, but Max can’t move, so he has no choice but to take it and try not to break under it. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to keep breathing between gags and groans as they violate him roughly.  
  
The one in his mouth cums first, and as soon as he has stepped away, Max leans forward to let the cum dribble out of his mouth. He can still feel it coating his tongue when another quickly grabs his hair to yank his head up, and shoves in roughly.  
  
They take him one after another, using both his mouth and his ass, though they seem much more interested in his mouth. There’s barely a second that he doesn’t have at least one inside him, and when one is done with his mouth, the next is so eager to take him that he barely has time to breathe. Some don’t let him breathe at all, forcing their cocks down his throat and fucking hard.  
  
Max jerks and fights with what little strength he’s got, but it’s dwindling quickly, and even when he headbutts one that gets in his face, or manages to twist his head sharply to the side as one settles into his mouth, they hardly seem deterred.   
  
One finishes with his mouth, and Max falls into a coughing fit, having gasped for breath with a mouthful of cum. By the time he comes back to his senses, he feels his back slam against a cold stone wall, a cock quickly sliding into his mouth. The boy presses him up against the wall, grinding the back of his head into the rough stone as he slowly thrusts in deeper and deeper, the last thrust finally penetrating his throat. He doesn’t pull back, instead rolling against him as Max chokes around his cock. Max’s lungs pull desperately for air, but none comes and after an agonizing minute he fades quickly, going limp against the wall as he passes out.  
  
They don’t stop when he’s out. He wakes to find himself laying on the floor, one of the Warboys straddling his face and fucking him in deep thrusts. His legs are folded against his stomach, a pair of hands under the back of his hips lifting him as another uses his ass. Max kicks downward, striking the one below him in the face and sending him sprawling to the floor. The other glances back, and quickly shoves himself in deep, pinning Max’s head to the floor as Max struggles uselessly, unable to even groan as the warboy he had kicked brings a foot down hard on his stomach. The one on his face presses down onto him without mercy, until he goes out again.  
  
He wakes this time to find himself flung over the exam table, double penetrated again, a chain around his neck to hold his head up. He doesn’t have it in him to fight anymore. He goes limp and lets it happen. Boy after boy has taken him, and they come to take him again. Cocks drive into his ass, and they almost make a game of trying to find the spots that make Max’s body twitch to life. More cocks come and go in his mouth, open and welcoming to them, until Max thinks he may never get the taste of cum off his tongue.  
  
Sated, they finally back off, leaving him bound and gagged on the exam table. Max lies on his side in a shocked daze, his mind starting to drift away from reality.  
  
“No need to put him away, boys,” the Organic Mechanic says with amusement. “I need to examine him anyway.” Max flinches at the voice. He hadn’t realized he had been there watching.  
  
The boys leave lazily, one finally loosening the tight strap around the back of Max’s head and pulling the gag out of his mouth. He takes it with him, and Max suspects it won’t be the last time he’ll see it.  
  
The Organic Mechanic steps forward as the last one finally leaves. ”Heh. Everyone's favorite whore. Did you enjoy yourself this time?" He leans down to look in Max's face and pats his cheek. "Never seen a blood bag get fucked as much as you do. There's gotta be something to you." He rolls Max onto his back, making him groan in pain, and prods at his body, searching for damage. He lifts his shirt and prods at his stomach, which aches as it starts to bruise. “I should cut back your rations, with all the juice they fed you.”  
  
The Organic Mechanic finishes checking over Max’s body, but he’s not done with him yet. He rolls Max back onto his side, pushing his knees up a bit. “You know you’re Rictus’ new favorite.” He leans in over Max. “How many times have you taken him up the ass?”   
  
Max cringes, shifting his arms against the painful tightness of his bonds. He doesn’t know why he deserves this verbal abuse on top of the bodily violation, but he doesn’t know why he deserves any of what’s been happening to him here. It’s just a fact now. Max gets bled, and Max gets raped. He’s just a thing to be used.  
  
The disgusting doctor pulls Max’s cheeks apart, examining him uncomfortably closely before he stuffs a finger inside. “Because I’m sure you don’t know how many Warboys have been in here.” He feels around, watching Max for any sign of pain. “I’ve certainly lost count of them.” Seeing none, he reaches for his prostate, a smile pulling at his lips as Max moans weakly. “You like that, huh?”  
  
The Organic Mechanic reaches around and cups his hand over Max’s groin and massages. He jerks his finger into his prostate and works his cock until Max is crying and gasping, his cock hard, his body squirming. The assault to his senses drags him unwillingly onward until he feels so tight he knows he’s going to cum despite his attempts to hold it back. A few more hard shoves up his ass, and Max cries out, squeezing his eyes shut as he releases across the table, adding to the mess left by the Warboys.   
  
The Organic Mechanic removes his finger and releases him with a quiet laugh. “Still in good shape.” He pats Max on the ass, then turns and leaves the room. “Hang him back up. He’s had enough for today.” His chuckling voice fades away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always taking suggestions.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested by just_a_guest.

Max wakes to the sound of Rictus' voice, and he's unsure at first if it's reality or one of his nightmares. It's been a couple weeks since he'd last seen Rictus, and he had started to hope that maybe he had seen the last of him. Rictus had seemed very disappointed last time he took him and found out that his previous attempt to tame Max hadn't stuck.  
  
"…And then he'll like it more?”  
  
The Organic Mechanic laughs disgustingly. "Well, can't hurt to try."  
  
Max has just enough warning to brace himself in his cage before the bottom drops out below him. Rictus reaches up inside and grasps the back of Max's trousers, yanking him down and out.  
  
The Organic Mechanic locks his muzzle on him, then grins and gives Max a pat on the face. "Have a good time."  
  
Rictus frees Max's legs, flips him dizzyingly onto his feet, and leads him, pulling hard on the chain attached to the back of his muzzle, through the Citadel and up to his room. Stumbling, Max resists as always, though he knows it's useless.   
  
Inside his room, Rictus locks the door, then instantly pulls Max close by his chain and wraps his arms around him. Max freezes as he feels Rictus' half-hard cock press up against his bound hands. It only takes him a minute to recover though, and he twists his wrists in their tight bindings to grab, aiming to hurt and damage as much as possible. He'll take any punishment he will get for this, but if he can avoid being raped again, he'd do anything. Rictus moans at first, growing harder in Max's grip, but as he digs his fingers in harder through the fabric of Rictus' trousers, twisting and pulling and gouging, Rictus suddenly grunts painfully and jerks back. He shoves Max hard, sending him sprawling onto the floor, and is quickly on top of him, one knee pressed hard into Max's back. He grabs his muzzle and twists his head hard to the side, raising a fist in anger. Max braces himself for the blow, but instead Rictus stops, then softens his grip and lowers his hand.   
  
"You don't know any better," he sighs, stroking the side of Max's head. Max jerks and struggles against the crushing weight on him.  
  
Suddenly, Rictus lets his weight off Max's back and steps away, going to a chest of drawers against the wall. With difficulty, Max manages to get to his feet, and looks at Rictus warily as he digs through a drawer. He eyes the door, knowing he won't be able to unlock it and open it with his arms tied behind his back. Nor could he grab and properly use any of the oversized guns sitting unguarded on a nearby shelf. There's nothing he can do, no way to get out, but when Rictus turns back toward him, something clutched in one hand, Max bolts.   
  
For several minutes, Rictus follows Max around the large room, but he's not trying very hard, and Max realizes he's just toying with him, trying to tire him out. But Max's only choices are run, or let himself be caught. He knows it's useless, but his instincts won't let him simply be caught, so he continues to dodge out of the way every time Rictus comes near, until he starts to find it difficult to stay ahead. Finally Rictus puts some effort into it, and catches up, sweeping Max's feet out from under him as he tries to escape again. Max lands hard on the floor, his metal-covered face hitting the rock with a clang. He's stunned, the wind knocked out of him, and by the time he regains his senses and manages to pull a breath into his lungs, Rictus has already freed his hands, stripped off his shirt, and is beginning to restrain him again. He puts his weight into it as Max struggles. One of Max’s hands is already shoved into a small leather bag, so tight that Max can't uncurl it from a fist. Rictus catches his other hand and stuffs it in a similar bag, then tightens the attached belt around Max's wrists, binding them behind his back again.   
  
He moves on to the rest of Max's clothes, but slows down, pinning Max with just enough weight to get the job done, while still letting him desperately struggle himself to exhaustion. Max curses himself as his body finally gives in and Rictus finishes pulling off his trousers. Rictus knows him too well, knows with certainty that he’ll wear himself out before he’ll allow any of this to happen to him.  
  
Rictus strips his own clothes, holding Max to the floor with a foot on the chain attached to his muzzle, then hauls Max up and leads him over to the bed, keeping a tight hold on the chain right at the back of Max’s head for control. Max’s struggles do little as Rictus guides him onto his knees on the mattress and presses his face against the wall at the head of the bed. He kneels behind him, spreading Max’s legs to fit his own between them.  
  
Max jerks his body weakly and pulls at the restraints on his hands and wrists, but the bonds are tight and Rictus keeps him pinned with a firm grip at the back of his muzzle. Rictus spreads oil across his erection, and then presses a finger into Max, smearing the slickness onto his skin. Max holds his breath and squeezes his eyes shut, bracing for what’s coming.  
  
Rictus sinks into him slowly. Max cries out against the wall. He’s getting used to being penetrated and can usually keep himself quiet with the Warboys now, but Rictus is big, and every time he takes him Max feels very sure that he shouldn’t be able to fit. His cry fades to a groan as Rictus sheaths himself fully inside him, pressing his body close against Max's. Rictus lingers, holding him hard against the headboard, his slow steady breaths spreading across Max’s skin as Max tries to keep himself from trembling. One hand slides down Max's side to grip his hip, and Rictus pulls Max with him as he sits back, seating Max onto him with legs spread open. Max tries to stay up on his knees, tries to pull away, but Rictus is stronger, and forces him down. He struggles anyway, and slams his head backward, meeting the side of Rictus’ face with the back of his skull, but Rictus seems barely affected. He grips Max’s muzzle, holding his head still as he whispers calming words into Max’s ear.  
  
Rictus is all soft caresses and gentle touches as Max adjusts to the pain of having him inside him again. He holds Max’s struggles still with an arm around his hips, while his other hand trails over Max’s body, waiting until Max eventually stops shaking in pain, and his breathing becomes a little less tight. Rictus’ free hand slides down to join his other at Max’s hips. He pauses, rubbing lightly at Max’s skin, then slides just a little further and takes hold of Max’s cock. Max tenses at the touch, his breath catching in his throat.  
  
“Shh, it’s okay,” Rictus murmurs against the side of Max’s head. “Gonna feel good.”  
  
Max’s eyes open wide in panic. He doesn’t want to feel pleasure like this, in Rictus’ hands, doesn’t want to be forced to orgasm again. He can handle pain. He can push it down and out of his mind, but it’s the unwanted pleasure that really breaks him. He shakes his head, trying to lean forward and push away, but before he can beg and reason and say no, his words get cut off by a helpless moan as Rictus gives him a firm but gentle squeeze.  
  
“There, see,” Rictus soothes as he rubs his thumb up Max’s length and back down again. Max writhes weakly, sensation starting to spark through his body, but Rictus holds his hips, keeping him firmly down on him.  
  
He rubs almost teasingly, his hand still slick with oil on Max’s cock, pressing the pads of his fingers into sensitive flesh as Max stifles unwilling moans into whimpers. He pumps slowly, gradually increasing his pressure until Max grows hard with a groan, falling back against Rictus and giving up the fight. His cock throbs, his sensitivity skyrockets. He hates how good it makes his body feel, hates that it makes him weak in Rictus’ grasp, pliant to his will. Rictus moves his other hand up and pets Max’s chest and stomach as he rains careful attention onto the head of Max’s cock, smearing his own wetness around him. Max gasps, arching as Rictus’ fingers stroke an especially sensitive spot along the underside, lighting up his nerves.  
  
Max doesn’t want this, but his body keeps going with it. He doesn’t hold himself back like he used to try to. He knows it would just prolong the inevitable, and he just wants this to be over with quickly.   
  
Max doesn’t hold himself back, but Rictus does. He stays attuned to Max’s every breath and sound, every jerk and twitch of his body, letting up on the pressure if Max gets too heated, holding back for a minute before pushing him onward. He controls every minute of the experience, until Max is moaning almost in frustration, pleasure building and building but still not quite enough, his shame and his hatred for his body’s response to this the only things keeping him from thrusting into Rictus’ hand to get himself off.  
  
Max is panting, his eyes squeezed shut, so, so near the edge when Rictus finally gives him what his body is all but begging for. Gripping his hip with steady pressure, he wraps his hand fully around Max’s length again, sliding up and down as Max’s core gets tighter and tighter and his choked moans grow desperate and loud. One final squeeze sends Max shuddering with a cry, his hips bucking involuntarily and his head falling back against Rictus’ shoulder as his whole back arches. He spurts across both their laps, and Rictus carries him through his orgasm, coaxing him onward until he collapses with exhaustion.   
  
As the aftershocks die down across Max’s body, Rictus holds him close against his shoulder and strokes his brow, petting his sweat-slicked hair back from his forehead. He waits until Max is still, and then gives his own hips a cautious roll against Max’s ass. Breathing heavily, Max is hardly even aware in the wake of fading sensation.  
  
Max gradually comes back to himself to the soft rocking of his body. Rictus fucks him with slow, terrifying gentleness. Max is nearly adjusted to his length and girth inside him now, and the careful thrusts into his ass hardly even hurt. They almost feel good. This isn’t worse than being forced to orgasm, but it is somehow more intimidating, more agonizing in its gentleness. He’d rather just take the pain of being brutalized. He’d rather Rictus drive him into the ground and be done with him than treat him with this softness that sends Max reeling. He’s used to pain. He’s used to abuse. He’s prepared for them. He’s not prepared for this.  
  
Max tries to struggle, tries to push himself away, but his body is spent after his orgasm. Rictus keeps one hand carefully on Max’s neck and the other around his chest, holding him close as he presses into him with low, quiet moans. Max pushes down the panic and tries to occupy his mind. He counts slowly in his head, trying to separate himself from what’s happening, but he finds himself counting each careful thrust instead. He’s not separated, he’s there, acutely aware of what is being done to him, and he can’t escape it. He loses count and gives up when Rictus hits an especially sensitive spot, making his body twitch and buck automatically.  
  
In a way, he doesn’t hate this, because it’s slow and soft and doesn’t hurt too much. And he hates it all the more for those same reasons, for making his body feel this way, for making part of him feel somehow okay about something that is so far away from being okay. He thinks he’s going to go mad all over again.   
  
Max doesn’t know how long Rictus fucks him. It feels like eternity. They are eventually panting in unison, sweat decorating both their bodies. Unable to even lean away from Rictus’ embrace, Max breaks and lets his head fall forward as his body rises and falls on the other man’s lap. He feels Rictus’ tongue swipe across his brand. Max’s chest is tight; he wants to sob or scream or fight, but doesn’t have it in him.  
  
Max feels Rictus building to his peak, his motions going a little faster, some of the gentleness fading, and Max is able to relax a bit despite himself, in mind if not in body, knowing it’ll soon be over. Rictus bites down on the soft of his shoulder, muffling his groans of pleasure as he cums, forcing himself deep into Max. Max’s body tightens as Rictus fills him up, then he slumps back against Rictus, depleted and broken.  
  
Rictus seems pleased when he finally lifts Max off him and rolls his limp form onto the bed, laying him carefully out on his stomach. This time most of Max’s pain had been internalized rather than vocalized, leaving Rictus completely unaware of it.  
  
“That was good,” he murmurs, thinking he’s speaking for Max too. He strokes his back, and Max’s mind fades out, his eyes staring blankly across the room, finally dissociating like he wished he had been able to do while he was being raped.  
  
Max doesn’t know how he got dressed, and the trip back to the infirmary is a blur of slow motion and missing chunks. But he finds himself there, blinking as if just waking up, as the Organic Mechanic approaches to take his leash from Rictus.  
  
The Organic Mechanic notices the small smile on Rictus’ face and the dazed look on Max’s, and grins, spit dripping down his lip. “Aha, you got him to like it, didn’t you?” He laughs with gloating satisfaction, ruffling Max’s hair harshly.  
  
Max hunches his head and shoulders, his face burning. He didn't enjoy it, but he doesn't have the voice or the energy to argue it.  
  
“And he looks downright tame now.” The Organic Mechanic puts his filthy hands around Max’s head, lifting it up to look at him. Max keeps his eyes down, his mind still swimming. He doesn’t growl. He doesn’t fight.  
  
“I think he’s just tired,” Rictus admits.  
  
“Ha! I’ll bet he is.”  
  
Max’s face burns harder.  
  
“Well, I’ll take him from here.” He takes the chain from Rictus, and Max looks cautiously over his shoulder as Rictus leaves, knowing that after that misplaced show of tenderness, Max isn’t going to be free of Rictus any time soon. The Organic Mechanic gives Max a sudden slap on the ass to get him moving, making him grunt in pain and stumble forward.   
  
“You’re easier than I thought,” the Organic Mechanic says with a dirty laugh. “Too bad you’re not a woman, Joe would love you. Feisty but pliable, and oh so fertile.” Max’s skin crawls at his words. He tugs Max over to his cage and hands him over to a Warboy. “Tie the whore up for me.”  
  
Max, barely even there and too broken down to fight, lets the Warboy tie him up, and he goes back into his cage without a struggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill. Let me know if you want to see something specific.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some more anguish.  
> And finally some Joe, for all those who requested it.

Nine months have passed. Max has counted every day, etched each tally into his mind as his life at the Citadel dragged on, dotted with bleedings and repeated episodes of rape. Nine months since they dragged orgasm after orgasm out of him to harvest his sperm. Nine months since they forced him to breed those women. Nine months since they conceived his children. Nobody’s told him if there will be children, but they didn't come back to breed him again, so he guesses the first time took.  
  
He doesn't know the exact date it would happen, probably never will know, but he marks this day in his mind anyway, and mourns the birth of his children into this horrible life.  
  
The days continue to pass without any event out of the ordinary. Max isn't sure why he seems to have become the favored go-to when one of them gets horny. Maybe it's because he's the strongest and healthiest of the blood bags. Maybe he's doing something wrong, somehow encouraging them. Maybe it's as they say. He's just good to fuck. Rictus will accept only Max now, and the Warboys choose to use him more than they use the other blood bags. Sometimes they treat him so badly or force so much unwanted pleasure on him that he breaks down and his mind drifts away, but he’s always managed to bounce back, to come back to himself to at least some degree, even if a piece of him gets left behind.  
  
He’s gotten used to it, as much as one can. But one day is different.  
  
"That's the one?" It's the man with the toothed mask again, accompanied by the Organic Mechanic. He's pointing at Max's cage. Max hasn't seen him since they decided to use him as breeding stock, and he dreads what is to come.  
  
"Yep."  
  
The man's eyes flash with anger as he looks at Max. "You're sure."  
  
“Only blood bag I have worth breeding.”  
  
"Bring him to me." He turns and storms out.  
  
Max soon finds himself being dragged, bound and muzzled, through the Citadel by a group of Warboys, led by the Organic Mechanic. The path is familiar. It's similar to the one Rictus takes. He's brought to an extravagant set of rooms, filled with relics from before the world fell. He sees a bed in the next room, and dreads that he might soon be on it. They force him to his knees in the main room.  
  
"Here y'are, Joe. Where do you want him?"  
  
The man with the mask emerges from another room. "Leave him there." He examines Max as he approaches. "He bites?"  
  
"Oh yeah, he bites," the Organic Mechanic replies, nudging Max in the ribs until he growls. "Still haven't managed to tame him."  
  
"You haven't tried hard enough." Joe glares at Max as he thrashes against the hands holding him. “He just needs to learn his place. Put the collar on him.” Joe regards Max from a distance.  
  
The Organic Mechanic fetches something from a table, and approaches with a collar in his hands, an old, frayed electrical wire coiled under his arm. Max struggles madly, but the Warboys hold him painfully tight, and the Organic Mechanic buckles the collar snugly around his neck. Dull metal prongs inside the collar press into the side of Max’s throat. The Organic Mechanic uncoils the wire leading from the collar and hands the box on the other end to Joe, and Max glares with all the anger he’s harbored these last several months. This man is in charge. This man is the one behind this monstrous army. He’s why Max was captured and treated like he has been.  
  
“Leave,” the man growls at the Warboys. They release Max, give the sign of the V8, and are gone.   
  
As soon as they’ve let him go, Max sits back and fumbles for the rope around his ankles. If he can just get his feet free, he’d have a chance. Joe glares, and clicks a switch on the box. Max grunts and his body tightens as pain sparks through his neck. He shakes it off and continues searching for a knot he might be able to undo.  
  
“Stop,” Joe orders. Max continues. Joe turns a dial and hits the switch again, and this time the pain is worse, stopping Max as his body freezes up with the shock. The Organic Mechanic gives an amused laugh. Max grimaces and waits for his muscles to relax again, then manages to find a knot around the side of his ankle, and starts pulling at it desperately.   
  
“You will obey me!” Another twist of the knob and click of the switch, and such a shock jolts through Max’s body that he suddenly collapses with a choked sound, unable to even scream, his muscles twitching as the pain permeates his entire body.  
  
Max lies stunned as the pain fades, and the large man is suddenly above him, rolling him onto his back with his foot and pressing down heavily on his chest, crushing his tied arms beneath him.  
  
“You stupid beast. Do you know why I brought you here?”  
  
Max lies gasping below him, still a little stunned from the shock.  
  
Joe continues without much pause. “Do you know how long I have been trying to get a healthy male heir? Years! Years I have tried, and every time my wives fail me. My only sons are useless. Too stupid, too weak, or too insane to rule."  
  
Max's eyes flash with fear, but he's not quite sure what this has to do with him. He struggles uselessly against the weight on his chest.  
  
"And then you come, just a damned feral from the wastes, and you father two healthy sons on your first try. With breeders that used to be my own wives no less!"  
  
Max falls still, his eyes going wide. Sons. He has sons. His heart clenches. He wonders if there are daughters too, or if any other children didn't make it. His lungs tighten and tears start to rise in his eyes, but his thoughts are jarred from his head as a kick strikes the side of his face.  
  
“You won’t see them,” Joe growls, as if he knows that that is exactly what Max wants. “They belong to me, just as you do.” He puts weight on Max’s chest again to mark his point. “And my property isn’t supposed to piss me off.”  
  
Tears run from Max’s eyes, but he looks up at the man in anger.  
  
“I would kill you if you weren’t such a useful asset.” The weight presses harder on Max’s chest. “But you are, so I’ll have to settle for breaking you.”  
  
Max fights him again, bucking and jerking under the foot, a feral growl rising in his throat.  
  
“Clearly you need a reminder as to whose property you are.” Another shock jolts through Max’s neck, and Joe steps away, his finger still on the switch as Max lies seized on the floor, pain coursing through him. Joe retrieves a brand from a fire basin burning by the wall, and walks leisurely back to Max before he finally releases the switch. Max lies limp, panting heavily in the wake of the pain, his eyes clamped shut. The Organic Mechanic is suddenly beside him, pulling Max’s shirt up before Joe’s foot goes back on his chest, crushing his heaving lungs. He leans down and presses the brand into Max’s side, burning his symbol into his flesh. Max screams and writhes as the excruciating pain becomes his whole world.  
  
When Joe finally pulls the brand away and goes to place it back in its fire basin, Max is left gasping in agony. Every breath sends pain shooting through his side, the throb of the burn the only thing Max’s brain can focus on.  
  
The Organic Mechanic leans down and turns Max’s face toward him. “That took him down a notch. Wouldn’t bet on it breaking him, though.”  
  
“I’m not finished yet.” Joe grinds his boot into the fresh burn, bringing another scream out of Max. “Tell me, feral. Do you remember who you belong to now?”  
  
Max manages to pry his eyes open and glares, trying to push any sign of pain off his face. He keeps his mouth firmly shut, his teeth clenched hard against the pain.  
  
“Say it, blood bag.”  
  
“Never heard him speak, boss. Don’t know that he can.” The Organic Mechanic nudges Max on the side of the face with the toe of his boot.  
  
Max’s head swims with pain, and he lets it fall limply to the side. It’s hard to focus, his vision fading in and out of clarity. He closes his eyes and tries to slow his frantic, pained breathing, listening to the two men above him.  
  
“I’m sure he’ll remember how. He’ll be begging by the time I’m done breaking him in.”  
  
The Organic Mechanic chuckles at that, and Max flinches when Joe’s boot presses into his fresh brand again.   
  
“Look at me, feral.”  
  
Max squeezes his eyes shut tighter, hoping that maybe this man will just kill him. A quiet click is the only warning he has before his body seizes in agony again, a short, low grunt the only noise he can make as the collar shocks him mercilessly. The few seconds of electricity feel like hours, until the pain overtakes him, and he blacks out.  
  
When Max awakes, he groans as the pain comes back to him, his side throbbing and his neck burning. He tries to curl up, but finds he’s unable to. Awareness comes back to him slowly. He’s on his stomach. Cool air brushes past his skin. He’s unclothed, but he can still feel the muzzle and collar pressing into his skin. Max’s stomach twists at the implications of that, and he tries to pull his arms toward himself, but finds he can’t do that, either. Finally he lifts his head and peels his eyes open. He’s chained, spread-eagle and face-down, to the four bedposts of a large bed. The horror sinks in, and he lets his head fall slowly back onto the bed, his body beginning to shake.  
  
A sudden touch makes him jump. It starts on his lower back and slides up to his shoulder blades, pressing with a firm pressure.  
  
“Are you ready to be broken?” It’s Joe’s voice again, still a low growl, and Max shivers as the hand slides back down his back, but he doesn’t dare look around. He doesn’t want to see the man about to rape him. He tries uselessly to close his legs, feeling helplessly vulnerable as the hand slides around to his hip and grips tightly.  
  
The man shifts, and Max feels the bed dip down between his legs. His body is tense and he pulls at the tight restrains, but they give him no room to move. He can feel Joe’s body heat above him as he hovers over him, one hand planting itself beside Max’s chest, the other running through his hair. The hand grips a fistful of hair suddenly, and yanks Max’s head up. Max grunts and closes his eyes as he hears the rough breathing move in beside his ear.  
  
“I’m told you react particularly well to pleasure,” comes the man’s voice in Max’s ear. “Such a shame,” he teases, “to hate feeling good. I can make you feel very good.” Max shudders, and Joe lets his head drop to the bed again. “But Daddy gets his first.” His fingers trace around the scar on the back of Max’s neck.  
  
Joe runs his hands all over Max’s prone body, exploring every curve and feeling every shiver and shudder, then begins rubbing his cock between Max’s ass cheeks and legs. Max finally feels him grow stiff, and he presses his face into the bed and tries not to whimper.  
  
Joe wastes no time in pulling Max’s cheeks open. Something cool pours over his hole, and then comes the familiar press of a cock against him, and Max pulls against the chains, grunting low in his throat as Joe slides into him quickly. No matter how many times Max has been penetrated like this, he always finds the feeling abhorrent. Even more so as he feels the lumpy, irregular shape of Joe’s cock as it enters him.  
  
Joe’s body presses down on top of Max’s, and he thrusts rapidly at first, making Max groan in misery, before he slows down and takes Max in long, forceful penetrations, his breathing already heavy. The minutes stretch on agonizingly slowly, and Max loses track of the time as Joe uses his ass, gradually growing more violent, pressing Max hard into the bed and abusing his hole with rough, jerking motions. Max is panting in pain beneath Joe’s assault when Joe grunts in frustration, and reaches for the switch box laying next to Max’s arm. Max glances out of the corner of his eye as the device disappears from view, and he braces himself for the shock.  
  
He screams when it hits him, the pain sharp and penetrating. Joe has dialed the level down considerably; Max is no longer completely immobilized by it, but his whole body still tenses as the pain jolts through him. Joe moans as Max tightens around him, and he jerks in hard, making Max scream again as his muscles involuntarily fight the intrusion. Max breathes again when the electricity stops, but he’s only free for the span of a handful of hard thrusts before Joe hits the switch a second time, and Max’s muscles tighten painfully again.  
  
Each time he shocks Max, Joe moans in pleasure and fucks a little harder, until Max is crying out at each painful thrust, even when the electricity isn’t biting through him. Joe is pounding so hard into him that Max’s legs strain against the shackles around his ankles, and he can feel his skin bruise beneath them and his joints groan at the stress.  
  
One last shock from the collar finally does it for Joe, and he cums loudly as Max screams low and hoarse against the bed, his body shaking. Joe’s finger stays on the switch through his orgasm, and he thrusts again and again into Max’s tightened hole as he empties himself into him. When he finally releases the switch, Max collapses under him, breathing with heavy, strained breaths. Only Rictus, by virtue of his large cock and sometimes overeager nature, had ever made Max’s ass feel this abused before. Even the Warboys had never matched this man’s violent treatment of him. Max’s body is agony, and he can feel a sharp, lingering burn on his neck where the prongs meet his skin.  
  
Joe pulls out, but immediately slumps on top of Max, wheezing in exertion. After a few minutes, he finally rolls off of him, where he lies for a while longer before he sits up. Max feels Joe’s hand slide down his back to caress his ass and thighs. He shudders as the hand welcomes itself to flesh it should have no right to touch, and the fingers dip down to brush against Max’s balls and cock.  
  
“Now you’re going to learn to like what you get.”  
  
Max pulls at his restraints again and turns his head away from the voice, burying his face against his arm. Joe moves back between Max’s legs, and rubs himself against Max again until he rises between Max’s legs and Max tries to swallow down his growing fear. Max holds his breath as Joe presses against him again.  
  
He doesn't go in very deep this time, instead aiming for his prostate and hitting it hard. Max cries out as the first spark of pleasure shoots through him. Joe hits it again, and with another cry, Max grips the chains by his hands and prepares himself for hell.  
  
Joe works him up carefully, his hand down around Max’s cock until he feels it grow hard, a cruel, quiet laugh reaching Max’s ears. He pushes Max a little further on, and then his motions stop. Max pants against the bed, confused but momentarily grateful. His body calms slowly from its traitorous arousal as Joe hovers over him, still inside him, but motionless. And then Joe’s hips jerk forward, and Max cries out again as the pleasure returns.  
  
Joe repeats this cycle several more times, working Max up a little bit further, making his body react a little more strongly each time before he stops. He experiments slowly, trying to read when Max is close, but not too close. Max can feel himself starting to build toward an orgasm when Joe stops for the fifth time, and by the sixth time, he hears himself moan in frustration when Joe stops. By the seventh time, he thinks he’s finally going to cum, but the stimulation stops just short of pushing him over the edge.  
  
Two more times Joe brings him to that point and then stops before Max can find release, until Max is writhing with need, his hands clenching and unclenching around the chains holding him down to the bed. His cock is painfully hard and throbbing, the warm tightness in him is overwhelming. He’s so close, but Joe keeps denying him the chance to end it. Desperate and needy, Max jerks his ass upward, trying to finish it, but Joe quickly puts a hand on his lower back and pushes him hard into the bed. He has complete control over Max, and Max moans helplessly. It’s too much. He can’t stand it. His body needs release so badly that even his mind, that one part of him that is still himself when he’s treated like this, the one part that has continued to resist, wants it too, if only to be free of it.  
  
Joe brings him right to the edge again, and then reaches down with his other hand as his hips fall still. He strokes Max’s cock lightly, keeping him right there where the pleasure is overwhelming, but not giving him enough stimulation to let him orgasm. Max breaks down and starts to cry quietly.  
  
“You want to cum?” Joe taunts over Max, his voice amused.  
  
Max groans, his eyes squeezed shut, his teeth clenched. His whole body vibrates.  
  
“Do you want it?”  
  
Max lets a whimper escape him, but Joe doesn’t take that as an answer.  
  
“Tell me.” He continues to stroke Max’s cock, teasing him with occasional presses into sensitive spots, but still never enough.  
  
Max doesn’t even have enough control of himself to feel shame when he nods desperately.  
  
“Beg.”   
  
Max whimpers again and rolls his hips against Joe’s cock to the limited extent that he can, trying to show him exactly what he wants, but Joe makes no move to finish him off. Max tries to think of words that would please this man, but even when he’s lucid he finds words difficult. Now his mind is so taken with pleasure and need that he comes up blank, his mouth silently trying to form words he doesn’t remember how to say.  
  
“Tell me what you want, and I, in my benevolence, will give it to you.”  
  
Max chokes on an attempt to say a word. He needs this. He needs it more than he’s ever needed anything in his life. He can’t throw himself at this man’s feet and grovel. He can’t beg with his body, restrained as he is. Words are the only thing he can rely on now. “Please,” he finally manages to say, his voice rough and cracked.  
  
There’s an amused rumble above him, but Joe still doesn’t move, aside from his hand against Max’s cock.  
  
“Need…” Max tries again, barely managing to hold back the sobs that push at his chest. “Please…”  
  
“Please what?”  
  
Max swallows hard. He’s not going to get release if he doesn’t ask for it properly. “Fuck me,” he murmurs, pressing his muzzled face against the bed. “Please, fuck me.” His voice is miserable, but clearly desperate.  
  
Joe hums his approval, and strokes Max’s cock from base to tip, sending shivers across Max’s entire body. “Good boy,” he whispers, and he finally, _finally_ thrusts into Max again.  
  
Max moans loudly, the pleasure finally building past that frustratingly close point. It only takes a few thrusts into his prostate before Max is shuddering and crying out and cumming so hard it almost hurts. All his other senses go dead as pleasure rockets through his body and he writhes, pulling at his restraints hard enough to make his wrists and ankles bleed. It’s the longest and most intense orgasm he’s ever felt, and he screams and shakes through it until the sensations slowly fade, and he’s left utterly spent. He breathes heavily, his mind dead, everything but the ecstasy he just felt gone from his head.  
  
He lies passively and silently as Joe uses his ass and his submission to get himself off again. It’s not until Joe has come down from his orgasm and is sitting beside Max, running his fingers through his hair, that Max slowly returns to himself, his back starting to shake rhythmically as the shame and tears come back to him. He’s never felt so broken, so beaten and manipulated.  
  
“Tell me, do you know now who owns you?”  
  
Max finally looks at the man, his forehead furrowed. His eyes shift downward, and then back up to him fearfully. He didn’t fear Joe when he was just hurting him, but now he does. He fears that Joe will fuck him again, punish him with pleasure and break what little of him is left. He blinks sluggishly, resigned.  
  
“You,” he rasps.  
  
Joe chuckles and pets Max’s hair again. “Good boy.” He continues petting him for a minute, then reaches for the bedside table and brings a key toward Max. Joe opens the lock at the back of his muzzle, then pulls the muzzle off, and Max’s gut twists in terror. He turns his head away, not wanting to look if he’s about to have that disgusting cock shoved in his mouth. Joe’s hand slides across the side of his face, and two fingers curl into his mouth, working their way between his teeth and pushing his tongue down. Max closes his eyes, and lets it happen. He could bite, but he doesn’t. It would probably discourage the use of his mouth, but would almost certainly be met by punishment, and he dreads this man’s particular flavor of punishment. Instead, he sucks lightly at the fingers as they roam freely about his mouth.  
  
Joe’s fingers eventually slide out of his mouth and run across Max’s bottom lip before retreating. “Tame,” Joe snorts, pleased at his victory over Max. “Tame and subservient, just as you should be.”  
  
Max swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut, but instead of moving to force himself on Max’s mouth, Joe pats the back of his shoulder, and stands up with the groan of an aging man. His wheezing breaths move away, and Max hears him move about the room, putting on clothes and boots and armor. He gives Max one last satisfied look before he leaves. He’ll send someone else to clean up his mess. Left in the silence of the room, Max sobs quietly until his mind drifts away from him and he lies motionless on the large bed, reduced to nothing but one man’s property in body, mind, and spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still taking prompts/requests/suggestions.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Organic Mechanic is nasty. This is your only warning.

The Organic Mechanic always liked kicking Max when he was down, and Max has never been this far down before.  
  
He’s sent to fetch Max from Joe’s room, and chuckles quietly when Max lies unmoving even after he has freed his wrists and ankles from the bedposts. Maybe he’s finally seen him broken. Max isn’t all there, but with the help of a couple Warboys, the Organic Mechanic manages to get him off the bed and unsteadily onto his feet.  
  
“No sense putting those back on,” he tells the Warboys as they start to gather up Max’s clothing. “I’m just going to take them right off again to check him over anyway.” A sick grin spreads across his face. He slaps lightly at Max’s face until Max blinks and shakes his head, awareness coming back to him. He hands Max his bundle of clothes, then picks up his muzzle and the switch box to his collar, and orders him to follow. Still dazed, Max obeys.  
  
Max barely makes it across the Citadel without his knee giving out on him. He’s on the verge of collapsing when they finally reach the infirmary and he thinks he may finally get a break, but the Organic Mechanic leads him straight through the infirmary and into his examination room. Max limps to a stop in the small room, clinging to his clothing and trying to cover himself up with the bundle. He turns when he realizes he hasn’t gotten any further orders from the Organic Mechanic, and finds the man looking him up and down, his tongue sliding out to lick saliva off his bottom lip. He steps forward, and Max takes a fearful step back.  
  
The Organic Mechanic moves suddenly, and Max finds himself pinned face-up against the nearby wall, one arm twisted behind his back, his clothes scattered on the floor behind him. Max grunts quietly as a hand grabs his ass and the man presses his body close to Max’s. He can feel the bandolier of medical tools cold against his skin.  
  
“Now, let’s see what damage he’s done to you.” A finger slides down the cleft of Max’s ass, trailing through sweat until it finds its target. He slips his finger inside, and Max whimpers against the wall, his body twitching at the pain despite the relatively small intrusion. The Organic Mechanic presses around experimentally. Max cries out at one specific spot, and the Organic Mechanic hums to himself. The muscle is torn, but the skin is not. It’s not a danger to his health, but it’ll certainly make sex painful for a while. A smile spreads across his face.  
  
He presses his finger in deeply and curls it within Max, laughing quietly as he squirms against the wall. “He fucked you hard and made you beg, didn’t he?” The Organic Mechanic whispers in Max’s ear. “Fucked you hard enough to tear you,” He presses into the sensitive spot again, and Max cries out. “But he didn’t stop there.” His breath is warm and wet against Max’s ear. “He made you like it.” He twists his wrist, sliding his finger around to press into Max’s prostate as if to demonstrate, and Max chokes back a whimper, his free hand scrabbling against the stone in front of him.  
  
The Organic Mechanic laughs, and slides his finger out. “Leave it to Joe to finally break a creature like you.” He steps back, one hand still holding Max’s arm against his back to hold him up against the wall, the other sliding up his body toward the fierce red burn on his side. His fingertips trace around it softly, and Max twitches at the touch. It’s painful despite not making contact with the burn itself. The hand leaves his side, but a moment later returns with a cloth to press against the oozing burn. Max grits his teeth and groans, focusing on the pain as a respite from the humiliation. The cloth sticks slightly as the Organic Mechanic pulls it away, and Max bites his lip.  
  
The Organic Mechanic inspects the discharge on the cloth, then tosses it aside, and his hand slides farther up Max’s body. He reaches up and unbuckles the collar, confident that he has control of Max even without it. Max inhales deeply as the metal prongs leave his throat. The Organic Mechanic puts his hand on Max’s neck, and Max grunts when his fingers touch the burnt patch of skin where the prongs had delivered shock after shock. He prods at the burn, and then his hand slides down to Max’s bare shoulder. “Ah, you’ll be fine.”  
  
But the Organic Mechanic’s attentions don’t end there. Max feels the man’s hips press up against his ass, and his breath catches in his throat as he realizes what is inevitably going to happen. The other man grinds up against him as his mouth returns to Max’s ear and he starts to nip at it. Max shudders as the man pulls back, letting his ear slip out between his teeth. “Just one more check,” he tells Max as he releases his arm and both his hands slide down to Max’s hips. “A little test run.” He draws Max away from the wall and starts to guide him over to the exam table, and Max’s knee collapses under him. He crumples to the floor with a grunt, and the Organic Mechanic lets out a sigh.  
  
“Get up. On the table.”  
  
Max freezes, lost between his gut reaction to obey, and his desire to not be raped again. Joe has broken him, and he would do anything that man ordered of him right now, but this man is not Joe, and Max has no wish to present himself to be fucked. Max doesn’t move.  
  
“I said up!” He grabs Max’s upper arm and tries to haul him to his feet, but Max makes no effort to stand, and ends up falling heavily back to the floor. The Organic Mechanic crouches down behind Max, hovering just a breath away from his bare skin. “Is this defiance?”  
  
Max shivers and shrinks away.  
  
“I think you’re not as tamed as Joe thought you were.” A slight laugh touches his voice. “Should I tell him you need another training session?”  
  
Max’s eyes go wide, and his breath catches in his throat. He shakes his head wildly as he starts to crawl quickly over to the table. He doesn’t want to be sent back to Joe. He’ll obey, he’ll do what the Organic Mechanic asks, if only it’ll keep him away from Joe.  
  
The Organic Mechanic laughs and stands up as Max uses the table to pull himself to his feet. He steps closer, hovering just a little away from Max’s skin again, and slides his hands around Max’s hips, then up to his stomach. He closes the small distance between them, pulling Max against him as he palpates his stomach. Max closes his eyes and bears it quietly. The hands slowly explore higher, prodding and pressing as if searching Max for maladies, until he reaches Max’s chest and grabs one of his pecs. He pinches both of Max’s nipples, and Max inhales sharply, but forces himself to stay still. The Organic Mechanic tweaks them and rubs circles around them before his hands move on. They slide around the side of Max’s ribs, and he pushes him forward slowly.  
  
“Bend over and grab the edge.”  
  
Max’s hands find the far edge of the exam table as he leans forward, and he grips it with shaking fingers. He stares at the doorway in the corner ahead of him. The realization that he could be free seeps through Max’s brain. He hasn’t been this unfettered in ages, and he has only the Organic Mechanic between him and escape. But what if he tries and fails? What if there are too many Warboys outside, and they catch him? That would easily be enough of a reason for the Organic Mechanic to  send him back to Joe to finish what he started. Max lets his eyes drift away from the door. He lowers his head and prepares to be raped.  
  
“Stay right like that,” the Organic Mechanic grins as he steps back. He mumbles to himself as he sorts through items behind Max. “Ah, this’ll do.”  
  
A moment later a slicked finger penetrates Max again and Max grips the edge of the table harder. The finger slides around inside him, then pulls out.  
  
“Hang on tight. You’re not going to like this.”  
  
Max rears up as something cold and metal slides into his ass, the pain of his torn muscle stretching around the intrusion bringing a choked scream to his throat.  
  
“Just relax,” the Organic Mechanic tells him, as if Max actually could, as he presses a hand against Max’s back, his other hand still holding the object in Max’s ass. He tries to keep Max down as he squeezes the handles on the speculum, gradually spreading Max wider, but Max shakes and tenses and tries to push up from the table, making desperate, pained noises. The Organic Mechanic jerks it farther into him suddenly, causing Max to snap his hips forward, slamming his pelvis into the hard edge of the table. He leans over him. “I said relax.”  
  
Max moans miserably and slumps back onto the table, but his body is no less tight.  
  
“Well, if you won’t relax…” He lets the tool close and slides it out of Max, then steps away, leaving Max draped across the table. He pulls an old syringe from his bandolier, and digs through a small collection of bottles on another table. He pulls up a carefully-measured amount of liquid from one, then turns back to Max, spit dripping down his lip again.  
  
He pulls Max upright, pinning his hips against the table to keep him from collapsing, then grabs one of his arms and holds it out straight. He inserts the large needle into the crook of Max’s arm, and Max watches, still a little detached from reality, as the Organic Mechanic empties the syringe’s contents into his veins. Max starts feeling the effects quickly, and he supports himself against the table in front of him as his head starts to spin and his knees grow weak.  
  
The Organic Mechanic leaves him to fetch something from the far corner of the room, and comes back to insert two leg stirrups into mounts on the underside of the table. “On the table. Legs in the stirrups,” he tells Max, gesturing to the setup. Max stares at it fearfully, and doesn’t move. The Organic Mechanic looks at him critically.  
  
“If you’re not going to obey, I will tell Joe,” he starts, and that’s all he needs to say before Max is climbing onto the table. He lays back, shivering at the touch of cold metal. He moves until his ass is right on the edge of the table to reach the stirrups, and spreads his legs, putting each into the high supports.  
  
The Organic Mechanic grins, and steps up between Max’s legs. His hand runs down the inside of Max’s thigh, fondles his cock briefly, then lays it up against Max’s stomach as he moves in close. He pulls the tool out of his belt, and reinserts it with deliberate slowness, his grin spreading wider as Max cries out in pain, gripping both sides of the table below him.  
  
Some curious Warboys have come to see what the noise is about, and a number of them now stand by the doorway, some leering, some with their hands down their trousers. The Organic Mechanic doesn’t seem to mind them as he spreads Max wider and wider. Max moans and whimpers as he is stretched, but his body relaxes more and more as the drug takes hold, until he finds it difficult to keep his grip on the edges of the table.  
  
The pain of the stretch becomes almost unbearable, and Max is fairly sure he has torn further by the time the Organic Mechanic finally stops. Max feels a finger press around inside his stretched hole briefly, and then the device relaxes and is pulled out of him. Max’s breathing slowly calms. He doesn’t dare look down as he waits obediently to be stuffed full of the Organic Mechanic’s cock.  
  
It’s not a cock that enters him next, but four well-lubricated fingers, all sliding into him simultaneously. Max’s breath hitches again, and he cries out as the thumb soon follows. The Organic Mechanic brushes past his prostate, making Max twitch weakly, then he slowly slides the rest of his hand in. Max screams and writhes weakly. Despite the preparation, he is still not ready to take something this big into his ruined hole, but in it goes, until his whole gut screams with the pain of the unnatural stretch. The Organic Mechanic presses slowly deeper until he is finally satisfied, and balls his hand into a wide fist inside Max. Max shakes and clenches and writhes around him, crying pitifully, and the Organic Mechanic laughs quietly. He pounds into him a few times just to hear him scream. The Warboys murmur and laugh and moan.  
  
Max struggles to breathe as the Organic Mechanic moves within him, in and out, stroking inside Max until Max thinks he’s going to be sick. Finally the Organic Mechanic seems satisfied, and slides his hand out. Max breathes again as his body settles. There’s a rustle of fabric, and Max lets his eyes roll back in his head as his head spins and his stomach churns.  
  
The Organic Mechanic’s cock is almost nothing compared to his fist as he slides it into Max’s loose hole with a moan and starts to fuck him with slow, rolling thrusts.  
  
“Good,” the Organic Mechanic praises, holding Max’s thighs as his hips pump against his ass and his cock pistons in and out with increasing speed. He moans deep in his throat. “Yeah, just like that.” He presses in and in, and Max moans unhappily. The Organic Mechanic moans with him, and one hand leaves Max’s thigh and a moment later two fingers slide along the cock inside him, pushing into his hole and curling deep within him. Max twitches and pulls in a gasp at the added stretch, then the fingers pull upward as the Organic Mechanic thrusts his cock in deep, and Max cries out at the pain.  
  
“Oh yeah, scream for me.” He tilts his head back and closes his eyes as he rapes Max with both his fingers and his cock. “You’re such a good whore.”  
  
The Organic Mechanic eventually adds a third finger, and he continues to make Max scream as he fucks fast and hard, until Max doesn’t have it in him to scream anymore. The exhaustion from today’s ordeal and the effects of the drug have taken hold of him, and he can do little more than groan and accept the treatment. The Organic Mechanic laughs breathlessly as Max succumbs. He goes harder and harder until he shudders and cums into Max with a yell of his own.  
  
He stays inside Max as he leans forward between his legs, trying to catch his breath. Max’s hands slide off of the sides of the table below him, slippery with sweat and weak from the drug. The fingers slip out of him first, and when the Organic Mechanic is finally breathing at a normal pace, he slowly pulls his cock out. A sluggish stream of warm cum runs down Max’s skin behind it, and Max breathes in shaky breaths, hoping it’s finally over.  
  
The Organic Mechanic puts himself away, and steps around the table to where Max’s head lolls to the side. He checks his pulse, then takes Max’s face between his hands and pulls his eyes open to study his pupils carefully. He frowns at the dull, distant look in Max’s eyes.  
  
“Sorry, boys, show’s over. This one’s had too much already,” he says to the Warboys by the door as he lets Max’s head fall to the side again. The Warboys leave one by one, some of them obviously disappointed that they didn’t get a go. Max would be relieved, if he were aware enough to know the difference.  
  
“We’ll just give you a break,” the Organic Mechanic lays his hand across Max’s forehead as the last of the Warboys leave, but Max is already unconscious. “I’ll give you another checkup later.” He grins.


	9. Chapter 9

There is an initial flurry of interest in Max as word spreads that he had been used by the Immortan himself. Countless Warboys take Max away to fuck him eagerly and many others request his blood, even if they don’t need it. The Organic Mechanic obliges some of them, until Max is dangerously low, and he loses almost as much time to unconsciousness as he does to dissociation. Max’s mind drifts away from him off and on for days. He’s not even aware when the Organic Mechanic puts a needle in his neck, and doesn’t fight when he takes him down and has him dragged off for an ‘exam.’   
  
It takes Max many days to even start recovering from his encounter with Joe. In the meantime, the Warboys think he has been broken, and though some of them get off on seeing him like that, others lose interest after the initial excitement because he no longer fights them. As long as the Organic Mechanic is nearby, watching or in earshot, he accepts what they do to him with quiet resignation. There’s still a faint spark of his spirit left, but he hides it away and protects it, the last of his survival instinct saving what little of him is left.  
  
Awareness comes back to him slowly one day, and he finds himself on his feet, surrounded by Warboys in the main infirmary room, his trousers quickly being pulled down to his knees. They bring another blood bag into their circle, a man looking as resigned and beaten as Max, and Max thinks absently, as if it will have no effect on him, about what they might have in mind for two blood bags at the same time.   
  
They force both to their knees on the floor, face to face, and the other man looks at Max sadly. Max had noticed the way the other blood bags would look at him over the past several months. Most of them had been raped at one time or another, but most did not fight it. Max did, and while some of them looked at him like he was stupid for fighting what he couldn’t stop, others looked at him like he was an inspiration, a bit of hope in their dark world. It is a custom among the blood bags to turn away when one of them gets raped, to at least give their fellow prisoners the dignity of not being stared at as they are humiliated. But some of them would perk up when they heard Max fight back, and they couldn’t help but look when he bit or struck one of his Warboy tormentors.  
  
Now Max does not fight, and many of the other blood bags have lost what little windows of hope he may have given them. They hunch lower in their cages when they see him give in to the Warboys and let them take him without a fight. It is a reminder to them that this place breaks everybody eventually.  
  
The other man’s eyes slide away from Max, and the Warboys push the two of them closer together until their chests almost bump.  
  
“Make each other cum,” one of them orders.  
  
Max looks around at the Warboys watching them hungrily, and slowly takes his own cock in hand. He flinches at the touch of the other blood bag’s cock against his own as the man wraps his hand around both of them, and Max’s hand falls away. Neither looks at the other as he starts to rub and squeeze, rolling his hips to rub against the underside of Max’s cock. Max isn’t sure if this is more or less humiliating than just being fucked, but the stimulation makes his breath hitch and after a few minutes, Max’s hips twitch as blood fills his member. The other man rubs with increasing intensity.  
  
“Hurry it up,” a Warboy prompts, his hand down his trousers but an impatient look on his face. Reluctantly, Max brings his hand up to massage the heads of their cocks. He rubs his thumb around each, then slips his finger between them, just under the heads, and rubs in slow circles. The other blood bag gasps and squeezes them a little harder. Max joins him in moving his hips as the feeling starts to permeate his body and his nerves light up with the sensations. Finally the other man moans as he cums, his hips twitching against Max’s as he covers their hands in sticky wetness. Max was growing close, but as the other man’s motions stop, he feels his body begin to calm. He breathes a little easier, hoping they’ll let him off without having to orgasm for all to see.  
  
“Finish him off!” One of the Warboys gives the man a shove as he pants, recovering from his orgasm. He pulls away, letting his own cock fall and Max’s stand on its own, and slowly lowers himself to a sitting position.  
  
Max looks down at him in horror as the man leans forward and takes him into his mouth. He circles his tongue around Max’s head, then presses the tip against his slit, undulating his tongue and making Max’s hips twitch forward. He takes him in slowly, bit by bit, until he swallows him down and has Max’s full length in his mouth. Max moans, his face burning with humiliation as the Warboys around him jerk off to the sight in front of them.  
  
The other blood bag sucks and licks, pulling back to give Max’s head more attention before taking him back in. The warmth around him sends shudders through Max’s body, and his eyes roll back in his head as he reaches to support himself on the man’s shoulders. Finally Max cries out as he cums, filling the other man’s mouth with his seed. The man swallows, sucking on Max until he finishes. Max’s body wavers and almost falls as the sensations rush through him and finally fade, leaving him panting. He feels him lick the last of his cum off his cock as he pulls off and slowly straightens up again. The Warboys move in, and Max knows it’s not nearly over.  
  
They fuck them both, Max on his stomach on the floor, a Warboy straddling his ass, the other blood bag bent over one of the stone benches as they use him. A Warboy runs his hand across Max’s lips, and reaches down to free his cock. They’ve been using his mouth freely lately, knowing he’s too broken to bite any of them.  
  
The one pounding into his ass goes still suddenly, the one in front of him turns away, and Max looks up from the floor.  
  
“I-imperator!” The boys all stop, some of them quickly putting themselves away. They give the V8 salute.  
  
Max cranes his neck up, looking past the boots standing in front of him, past the dusty grey riding trousers, pauses at the wicked robotic arm hanging by the person’s side, then continues upward to see the face of a woman looking down at him and the boys. Her forehead is painted black like so many of the boys who fuck him. He knows she’s one of them, but something about the look on her face keeps his attention. She’s trying to hide it, but it’s still there. There’s no malice or joy at Max’s situation like he sees on so many Warboy faces. She’s sickened by what she sees. But it’s gone a moment later, and she stares down at Max impassively.  
  
“Do you want a go?” One of the boys finally asks her. “Take this one, he’s a real good fuck. He’s nice and calm now, too, he’ll do whatever ya tell him to!” The boy in Max’s ass slips out of him quickly and Max grunts.  
  
Max shifts uncomfortably. He looks at her, hoping she has more sense and reason and kindness in her than the men surrounding him. His eyes plead. He doesn’t know for what. Maybe for her to say yes, so he can feel the touch of someone who might still have some humanity left in them. Maybe for help, for the use of her power over these boys to grant him a reprieve. He lets his pain show. Maybe she’ll take pity and just put him out of his misery. He imagines that metal hand snapping his neck and ending it all.   
  
Her expression darkens. “No. As you were.” She turns away and continues toward the door, and Max lets his face lower slowly back to the gritty ground below him. It was stupid to hope.  
  
“Rictus,” he hears the woman greet respectfully as she exits, and Max’s eyes go wide. Rictus has never seen him get used by anybody else, and Max isn’t sure how he’ll take it. He twists his neck and looks up again to see Rictus standing still in the middle of the infirmary, staring in shock at Max lying face down on the floor with a Warboy shoving his way up his ass and another pressing his fingers into Max’s mouth.  
  
“That one’s mine!” Rictus finally roars, pulling himself out of his shock and stomping forward. He shoves the Warboy away from his mouth and grabs Max by his shoulders, pulling him up and forcing the other Warboy to fall backward, his cock slipping out of Max’s ass.  
  
Max lets out a short, pained yell, and his head spins as he is pulled upright suddenly. Rictus holds him protectively against his chest as Max goes limp in his arms, blacking out after only a few seconds as Rictus starts to yell.  
  
When he wakes up, he’s on the firm mattress of Rictus’ bed, the man’s large hand slowly petting his hair. Max is relieved to find himself fully clothed, his trousers pulled back up and fastened. As he realizes where he is, however, he doesn’t hold much hope for that remaining the case.  
  
Rictus moves closer when he notices he’s awake, and looks at him in concern. “You’re okay.” He sounds relieved. “They won’t do that again,” he assures Max, stroking his hair again. “I made sure. They won’t do that.”  
  
Max was worried that Rictus would take it out on him for being used by other Warboys, but he seems to at least have a basic understanding that Max doesn’t have a choice in these matters. He doesn’t know what he did to make sure they wouldn’t be raping him again, but will be beyond glad if it does stop them.  
  
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He slides his arms under Max, picks him up and carries him out the door and down the hall to a nearby room. The air is humid and warm when they enter. Rictus puts Max on his feet and locks the door behind them, and Max looks around in the dim light. The room is narrow with old sinks lined up on one wall, and some shelves and benches along the other. Further back it opens up, and Max can see a large pool cut into the rock.  
  
He jumps when Rictus starts pulling his shirt over his head, but he doesn’t try to stop it. Max knows how this is going to go, and he knows there is no point in fighting it. Rictus tosses Max’s shirt aside, and starts to run his hand down his body, but freezes suddenly. Max looks hesitantly up to see Rictus staring at the weeping burn on his side. He crouches down to see it better and touches it gently, making Max flinch and suck air between his teeth in pain.  
  
“Who did this?”  
  
Max doesn’t answer. He lost his voice long ago, except to scream or beg. He looks down, guilty like it was his fault.  
  
Rictus glares at the burn as he strokes his fingers slowly around it. “I’m going to ask Dad if I can keep you,” He decides suddenly, standing up. He turns Max around and leads him out of the room with a hand on the back of his neck. Max’s heart jumps into his throat. He hadn’t really thought about Rictus’ place in the Citadel, but it occurs to him now that it would make perfect sense for him to be Joe’s son. He’s not just a Warboy, and definitely has rank and privilege, considering his large room with real furniture. All of the Warboys who had ever taken Max away to their bunks to fuck him privately had only barely had holes in the wall. Joe had mentioned having sons, and Rictus occasionally spoke of his father as a man of power. Max doesn’t know why he didn’t realize it sooner.  
  
Max plants his feet suddenly, fear of seeing Joe again overtaking him. He shakes his head as Rictus tries to pull him onward, and Rictus stops, seeming to finally realize.   
  
“Did HE do that to you?”  
  
The terror on Max’s face is all the answer he needs. Max struggles and finally slips out of his grip, then spins and starts to run. Rictus catches up to him in a few strides, tugs him back by his arm, and ends up having to wrap his arms around Max and hold him against his chest as Max struggles.  
  
“He won’t hurt you,” Rictus tells him, but it does little to make Max feel better. “I won’t let him touch you.” He draws Max on down the corridor.  
  
Max is shaking by the time they reach a large pair of double doors set into the rock and Rictus opens one and pushes Max in ahead of him. Max glimpses a long table with a few people sitting along one end. At the head of the table sits Joe, and Max quickly diverts his eyes to the ground, a lump rising in his throat.  
  
The quiet talking in the room hushes, but Joe’s voice speaks up. “What is it, Rictus?” He sounds impatient already.  
  
“I want this blood bag,” Rictus announces, pushing Max forward slightly.  
  
“I’ve told you, you can do whatever you want with them.”  
  
“No, I want to keep him.”  
  
There’s silence, and Max can feel Joe’s eyes scrutinizing him. He tightens his muscles against the shaking in his body and holds himself perfectly still. He’s only missing his shirt, but he feels completely exposed under Joe’s eyes.  
  
Finally Joe speaks: “No. That one has to stay with the Organic Mechanic. He’s too valuable to just be your little pet, Rictus.”  
  
Rictus’ grip on the back of Max’s neck tightens. “It’s just one blood bag.”  
  
“He’s a universal donor and part of the breeding program. He stays where he is.”  
  
Max’s heart stutters at the thought of being bred again. His heart still breaks every time he thinks of his own children here. He doesn’t think he could handle being forced to do it again.  
  
Rictus is silent for a minute. “Why is he scared of you?”  
  
“Because he needed a lesson.”  
  
“What did you do?” Rictus’ voice carries barely-concealed anger.  
  
“Now is not the time for this, Rictus,” Joe growls admonishingly.   
  
Rictus stands still, saying nothing, then tugs hard on the back of Max’s neck, pulling him backward and turning him around to leave. Rictus remains silent as he leads Max back down the hallway, but Max can feel anger and indignation bubbling under his skin. A few minutes later they are back in the bathing room, and Rictus slams and locks the door before he turns on Max and tugs the rest of his clothing off harshly. Max finds himself on the floor as Rictus finishes pulling off his boots and trousers, and Rictus calms and moves back only when he sees the fear on Max’s face. He turns away and takes a moment to put Max’s dirty, crusted clothing into one of the larger sinks and fill it with water, then returns to Max and crouches down by him.  
  
“I’ll still try to take care of you,” he tells him, then pulls him up to his feet. Rictus removes his own clothing and breathing pack as Max stands shivering despite the warmth of the room. He places them messily onto one of the shelves, then leads Max into the bath.  
  
As Rictus begins washing the filth from Max’s skin, Max remembers how gentle this man tries to be with him. Compared to the rough treatment he has been getting lately, he almost yearns for gentleness, if only it wasn’t accompanied by rape. Max considers briefly that Rictus, despite how painful he is to take into him, is the lesser of the evils Max is forced to endure here, and is the only one who wouldn’t want to send him back to Joe for disobeying. Max can safely fight what Rictus does to him, but does he want to offend the one man who might save him from people like Joe or the Organic Mechanic? As Rictus pulls him close and he feels Rictus’ cock hard against his own, however, his instincts, until now trapped behind fear, kick back in and he tries hard to push himself away. It’s still rape, and he still hates it.  
  
Rictus holds him tightly and works a soapy finger into his ass as he struggles, cleaning there too. He has left barely an inch of Max’s skin untouched, and Max hasn’t been this clean in ages. The Organic Mechanic washes his blood bags on occasion, but for that Max was always just stripped down, tossed in a corner, and sprayed down with a high-pressure hose.   
  
Max barely manages to hold his breath as Rictus dunks him under the water to rinse the last of the soap from his skin and hair, then pulls him up to look at him.   
  
“Much better,” he says quietly, stroking his hand over the back of Max’s head. Max fights his grip and strikes out with his fists, knowing what will come next, but Rictus catches his arms and shoves him back against the edge of the pool, pinning him hard. He holds both of Max’s wrists tightly in one hand as his other hand grips Max’s leg, pulling it up and out as he fits himself between his thighs. He holds Max tight, then his head leans forward suddenly, and he smashes their mouths together. Max's eyes go wide, and he's momentarily stunned. But as Rictus begins to kiss him, sucking at his lips and running his tongue across them, Max comes back to his senses. He bites viciously, sinking his teeth into the man's bottom lip, but Rictus just bites back as if Max were playing, chewing at his soft upper lip until Max releases him and pulls back, turning his head away. Rictus settles for nibbling on Max's ear instead as he pushes Max’s knee up to his chest. He fits his cock against Max’s ass, teasing at the sensitive skin before he pushes upward, forcing himself into him with a moan.  
  
Max screams and shakes against Rictus’ chest as he is forced open, forced to take Rictus into him, bit by agonizing bit. The pain is always bad, but it’s even worse with the tear in his muscle still not completely healed. The hard edge of the rock digs into Max’s back as Rictus pushes himself in to the root then starts pounding hard, bottoming out with each thrust. He holds Max’s wrists above his head and his leg to his chest as Max struggles, crying out. Each motion of Rictus’ hips sends a new shot of pain through him, and he tries to get his other leg under him, but can’t with the angle of his hips.   
  
He thrashes and fights and tries to bite, and finally pulls his other knee up, trying to ignore the pain as the new position gives Rictus a better angle. Rictus moans, pushing somehow deeper into him. But Max works his knees between himself and his rapist, then pushes hard, finally shoving Rictus away. Rictus slips out of him as he falls back in the water, releasing Max’s wrists as his arms swing reflexively to catch himself. Max moves through the water as quickly as he can, but is only half way out of the pool when Rictus catches up to him, grasping his ankle as he starts to climb out. He pulls hard, yanking Max’s leg out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor, then pulls him back so his legs hang over the edge, his torso flat on the floor. Max struggles to push himself up, but Rictus plants his hand firmly on his back, shoving him down.  
  
“I’m sorry it hurts you…” His voice sounds earnest. “I’ll make it better. Just let me finish…” He holds Max down forcefully as he struggles again, then lines himself up and shoves back into him. Max screams against the floor and jerks his body. He reaches back, but his hands just slip off of Rictus’ wet skin as the man’s hips pump against his ass.  
  
Rictus fucks him to exhaustion, the effort of trying to get free and the pain of being sodomized wearing Max out long before Rictus is done with him. He finally falls still, and Rictus leans over him, pressing his chest to Max’s back. He reaches up and turns Max’s head far to the side and kisses him again as he works himself in his ass. Max moans weakly against Rictus’ mouth as Rictus finally finishes with him, his hard thrusts stuttering to a stop as he cums deep inside him.  
  
Max pants but doesn’t struggle or move as Rictus pulls out of him, stroking his back gently. Max isn’t aware as Rictus slowly drops to his knees in the water behind him, and he lays quietly still, exhausted and in pain, until Rictus pulls his cheeks apart and Max feels his breath wash over his wrecked hole. Max twitches as Rictus licks him lightly, testing the waters, then buries his face against him, his tongue swiping across Max’s hole again. Max’s breath hitches. The smooth tongue rubs circles around him, soothing the skin rubbed raw from fucking, then tests his entrance with careful pressure before pushing its way in. Max squirms under the attention, and Rictus removes his tongue, sliding one hand up to Max’s back to still him. It’s only a moment before Max feels his tongue against him again, and Max shudders at the unexpected sensations it sends through him. It’s soft and gentle and soothing, and he chokes back a moan as Rictus works into him again.  
  
Rictus swirls his tongue, tracing it around the rim of Max’s ass, pressing in then pulling out and lapping at his sensitive skin until Max is scrabbling for purchase on the hard floor, his body shaking weakly. Rictus isn’t even hitting his prostate, and yet it feels so strangely good that Max can barely even struggle against it. He moans again, his face burning with unseen humiliation, his hands gripping uselessly at the floor as Rictus presses into him, his tongue reaching deep and massaging in a way that makes Max gasp suddenly, his hips twitching. He can feel Rictus’ lips pull into a smile.  
  
With one last hard lick and an exhale of breath across Max’s skin, Rictus finally pulls away, letting Max’s cheeks settle back together as he strokes his hip then climbs out of the water. Max lies boneless and still, his mind reeling, and Rictus pulls him out of the pool and leaves him in a heap by the bench near the door. He rinses out Max’s clothes, draining the sink and refilling until he finally seems satisfied with the state of them. Max tries shakily to stand, slowly regaining the use of his legs after being fucked hard over the edge of the pool. Escape is foremost on his mind with Rictus’ back turned, but he barely gets the bolt pulled back on the door before Rictus catches him and guides him carefully back to the bench, and Max slumps against the wall, wincing at the pain that permeates his ass despite the treatment it had just gotten.   
  
He’s so exhausted. Maybe a little sleep would be alright.  
  
Rictus eventually leads him wet and naked back to his room where he lays him on the bed and lies down next to him, draping an arm across Max’s chest. Max shivers in the cold air, and Rictus pulls a blanket over them and settles beside him again. “I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs in Max’s ear, stroking his arm gently. "You'll be okay."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst and smut.  
> Just pretend that cock rings actually keep you from cumming.

Rictus rolls over just as Max is starting to fall into an uncomfortable sleep, exhausted from being fucked, and he jumps awake at the other man’s touch.  
  
“Dad said breeding program…” Rictus says, looking like the thought is troubling him. “They let you have babies?”  
  
Max looks at him in surprise and fear. Does Rictus want him to breed again? He feels panic start to rise in his chest, but he realizes Rictus looks a little hurt. Max has only started to try to fathom why when Rictus speaks again.  
  
“How many do you have?” The man sounds genuinely curious.  
  
Max’s eyes widen. Rictus doesn’t want to force him into breeding again for some sick reason, he’s actually interested in Max’s existing children. Max isn’t sure why he would be, and frankly, he doesn’t much care. If Rictus is interested, maybe he could use that to his advantage.  
  
Max’s desire spurs him on to find words. “Haven’t… seen.”  
  
“You haven’t seen them?” Rictus sounds shocked, as if he thinks Max is actually allowed to have any part in the upbringing of his children.  
  
Max shakes his head, his eyes pleading.  
  
“You want to see them?”  
  
“Yes.” Willingly talking to the man who rapes him feels wrong, but the word doesn’t even take Max a second thought.  
  
Max doesn’t care that the only clothes he has to put on are wet and cold; he’s dressed and he’s going to see his children. Rictus leads him down tunnels and passageways through the Citadel, and for the first time, Max doesn’t fight him.  
  
Rictus brings him to a complex of rooms. Max glances briefly in a few as they pass by, and sees only women in each. Max can hear a baby crying in one of the rooms, and his heart clenches.  
  
“Rictus, what are you doing here? You know I can’t let you have any of them.” A man approaches from one of the rooms behind them, sauntering casually.  
  
Rictus frowns for a moment. “My blood bag has babies. We want to see them.”  
  
The man glances at Max. “The blood bag stud, huh?” He pulls a book from under his arm. “Well, it’s a little unusual to let a stud in here, but if that’s all you want…” He opens the book, flips back several pages, and scans through. “The O-negative…” He flips back a few more, then his finger stops in the middle of a page. “Ah, here.”  
  
Max’s stomach is slowly crawling into his throat as the man brings them to one of the rooms from where Max can hear crying.  
  
“Two males and a female child,” the man says, pointing to three different women in the room in succession. Max’s eyes dart from one to the next, and the women look up distrustfully.  
  
He approaches the nearest one on legs that feel like they may give out at any moment. It’s the one who had raped him first, the one who had apologized. The woman stares up at him with barely any recognition, cradling a young baby in her arms. His hands reach out for the child as he approaches her, desperate to see, and she pulls the baby closer to her chest defensively.  
  
“Please,” Max rasps, lowering himself slowly to his knees in front of her. “Please.” He holds his arms out, not to take, but to ask, and after a moment, recognition slowly crosses her face. She relaxes her hold and slowly reaches out to place the child in his arms. Max pulls the baby close to his chest and looks down in silent awe, etching the tiny face in front of him into his memory, until tears blur his vision and he can’t make out the lines any longer. He chokes back a sob and wipes an arm across his face before he looks down again, his fingers reaching gently to stroke the side of the baby’s face.  
  
Rictus comes closer to look, and Max turns away with a jerk, hunching protectively over the baby, using his own body as a shield between his child and his rapist. Rictus tugs on his shoulder, trying to get him to show him, but Max just growls and holds the baby closer.  
  
“I wanna see!” Rictus pulls hard, and Max has to grip the baby tightly to avoid dropping him as Max’s whole body is spun around. The child starts to cry in Max’s grip as Rictus leans in to look, and the woman hurries forward to take her baby. Max’s reflexes make him hold tighter as she tries to take the child from him, but as the baby wails, he lets go and hands him over to her, his heart breaking at the sound.  
  
He sees each of his new children in turn, and he cries for each. The woman he’s never met, who must have received his seed from the jar they used when they milked him, refuses to hand her child over to him. But she lets him look, and the baby grips her little fist around Max’s finger, forcing a smile out of him, despite the tears.  
  
The third woman, the one who had fucked Max with little regard, hands her child over to him freely and he rocks the crying baby gently until he quiets down and stares up at him with big eyes. Max tries to remember each face, not knowing if he’ll ever get to see them again.  
  
“Alright, that’s enough, you’ve seen all three. I don’t have all day to sit around here and babysit you while you’re here,” the man in charge interrupts, and what little joy Max had felt is pulled out from under him. The man approaches to take the baby from Max, but Max jerks away and hands him back to his mother before the man can get a chance to touch his child.  
  
Max resists Rictus’ pull at first, but then turns to go with him. His vision is too blurred with tears to see his children anymore, and he knows they’re not going to let him hold them again. He counts what very few blessings he has that he was allowed to see them at all.  
  
Rictus asks him question after question as he leads him down the passageway away from the breeders’ complex, about babies and children and what it’s like to have them, but Max is silent, tears still streaming slowly down his face. Eventually Rictus quiets down, realizing that his blood bag talking was only a short-lived event.  
  
Rictus pins Max to the wall after he brings him back up to his room, his hand sliding down to grip Max’s ass. “I gave you what you wanted. Now you owe me one.”  
  
Max pushes back as Rictus starts to work his trousers down. He doesn’t owe Rictus anything. He’s grateful that he had the chance to see his children, but Rictus is a rapist plain and simple, and Max owes nothing to the man who has violated his body time and time again. Rictus shoves him hard into the wall, and Max breathes against the stone, his hands planted against it and his arms pushing uselessly, fighting Rictus’ muscle.  
  
“It only hurts a little bit,” Rictus says as Max fights him, as if he has any idea, and Max would laugh, if the situation weren’t so sick and grim.  
  
His body tenses as Rictus works his cock between his ass cheeks and presses inward. He doesn’t even bother with any kind of lube this time, and yet Max manages only a low scream, fading into a groan as Rictus enters him. He’s already been stretched wide by his previous fucking, and he knows there’s cum in him to lubricate the way as soon as Rictus gets in a few good thrusts.  
  
“If you, mmm… were a girl,” Rictus murmurs into his ear between indulgent moans, “you could have… aah… have my babies.” He rolls his hips against Max’s ass as he slides himself all the way into him. His knees are bent to keep his hips on the same level as Max’s, but as he gets going, he thrusts hard enough to lift Max’s feet off the floor, and Max grunts and struggles. Rictus is soon holding him up by his hips, pressing him against the wall, and taking him eagerly, with Max’s feet searching for purchase but finding none. Rictus fucks him as if he hopes to actually impregnate him, going hard and fast for a quick release.  
  
“I’d fill you with babies, and we could raise them together,” Rictus says breathlessly.  
  
Max shudders as Rictus cums inside him.  
  
*****  
  
Not wanting to disobey his father, Rictus is forced to return Max to the infirmary, but he checks on him daily for a while, and the Warboys keep their distance. The Organic Mechanic watches with amusement, but doesn’t say anything about his part in Max’s torment.  
  
A few days pass, and Max is left mercifully alone. He thinks for a while that he’ll only have to deal with being raped by Rictus now. Even the Organic Mechanic doesn’t seem to want to risk using him and having Rictus find out. But it’s another matter when new orders come from Joe.  
  
“I hear you got to see the kids,” the Organic Mechanic says, banging on the bars of Max’s cage and making him jump. “You’re lucky to have Rictus to sneak you around like that. Joe wouldn’t have allowed it.”  
  
Max looks down at the Organic Mechanic fearfully, dreading what plans the man has for him today. He never pays attention to Max unless he wants to use his body for one thing or another. If Max was lucky, the Organic Mechanic would just want to bleed him, but Max knows that’s not it. He never talks to him when he just wants his blood for a Warboy.  
  
“Guess in about nine months, maybe you can talk him into doing it again.” He yanks on the rope on the door to Max’s cage, and Max falls out instantly, his mind too focused on what the Organic Mechanic had just said to bother with trying to fight back.  
  
“Get him on his feet,” the Organic Mechanic says to a nearby Warboy. “It’s breeding time.”  
  
Max’s mind is instantly wild. Not again. He can’t do that again. He fights so hard that three Warboys have to come hold him still while they lower him to the floor, and they end up dropping him, his head narrowly missing a collision with the ground as he lands hard on his back. He fights on through, and the Warboys try to pin him. An arm gets close to his face as one pushes his chest down, and Max bites hard, tearing skin and drawing blood. The Warboy howls, and brings his fist down on Max’s face until Max releases him, stunned.  
  
“Put the muzzle on him! He’s back to biting.”  
  
They put it on him while he’s down, and he comes back to himself as they’re snapping the lock shut. They haul him to his feet, and he fights again, desperate fear taking control.  
  
“Hey. Hey!” The Organic Mechanic grips his muzzle and gets in his face, staring into Max’s wild eyes. “Joe would be very disappointed to hear about this. Do I need to tell him he needs to retrain you?”  
  
Max shakes the Organic Mechanic off, and throws off one of the Warboys holding him. He didn’t even hear what the Organic Mechanic said. His mind is focused on a single thing: he can’t father more children.  
  
The Organic Mechanic steps back and glares at Max as the Warboys struggle with him. They can’t get him under control, but they at least keep him from escaping like he’s trying so hard to do.  
  
“Take him down to the holding cells. Chain him up to a wall. I’ll deal with him,” the Organic Mechanic growls. The Warboys haul Max away, fighting all the while.  
  
Max is hanging slack in his chains against the wall by the time the Organic Mechanic comes for him, carrying a tray of varied implements. Max jerks his head up and tightens his muscles against the chains, but he’s already fought them until he was exhausted, and knows there’s no getting out. He has been stripped naked, his arms chained above him, the chain pulled tight enough that his feet just barely touch the ground. His ankles are shackled to the wall apart from each other, wide enough to make him feel especially vulnerable. He looks over the bars of his muzzle fearfully as the Organic Mechanic approaches.  
  
“Got a nice O-negative breeder lined up for you, but if you’re not going to cooperate, we’re going to have to do this the fun way.” He stops in front of Max and sets the tray down on the floor, then straightens up and looks Max in the eye. His hand darts forward, and he grabs Max’s cock harshly, making Max jump. Max starts to jerk and struggle, but the Organic Mechanic grips him tighter. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”  He pulls threateningly.  
  
He waits until Max stills again, then slips his hand under and fondles his balls. Max closes his eyes to avoid the Organic Mechanic’s gaze and tries not to shake, but opens them again as the Organic Mechanic lets go and leans down toward the tray he had set down.  
  
“I’ve always wanted to try this,” the Organic Mechanic says, waving a metal rod in front of Max’s face, covered in an uneven layer of something white and translucent. Max isn’t quite sure what he means, until he grips his cock again and lines the rod up against its tip. Max grunts in fear and tries to jerk his hips backward, but he’s up against the wall and it does no good. The rod looked pretty thin at first, but now that he understands what the Organic Mechanic intends to do with it, it looks terrifyingly thick. There’s no way it can fit inside him. The Organic Mechanic pauses briefly to grin at the terror on Max’s face, then slowly works the rounded tip of the rod into him, twisting it back and forth as he slowly guides it up the length of Max’s cock. Max yells and wants to thrash and struggle, but dares not move. His body vibrates minutely. It doesn’t hurt quite as much as he thought it would, but it’s cold and extremely uncomfortable and one of the strangest feelings he’s ever felt. He feels invaded in a whole new way. The Organic Mechanic looks up to his face again as he works it deeper, a grin spreading across his face and spit dripping from his lip. Max closes his eyes and breathes through his nose harshly, trying to keep control of himself.  
  
It goes deeper and deeper, the Organic Mechanic adjusting the angle of his cock carefully to get it in past the base. When finally it stops, Max dares to open his eyes and look down. The Organic Mechanic is holding the very tip of the rod between two fingers, the rest of it inserted into Max’s cock, which stands perfectly straight in the other man’s hand, despite Max’s lack of arousal. The Organic Mechanic notices Max’s gaze and gives his cock a squeeze. Max cries out at the alien feeling of his flesh being pressed against the rod.  
  
After a minute, the rod withdraws slowly, and Max stares in horror at the length and width that was inside him. When the tip of the rod finally emerges and the Organic Mechanic lets his cock fall, Max breathes again, taking gulps of air and relaxing his muscles a bit. The Organic Mechanic leans down again, drops the rod onto the tray, then picks up another one and smears it with more lubricant. Max looks at it fearfully as the Organic Mechanic stands up again with it in his hand. It’s bigger, and Max knows it’s going to go inside of him. The Organic Mechanic lifts Max’s cock again and lines the rod up. Max knocks his head against the wall behind him, swallowing hard and closing his eyes as the tip of the rod goes into him. The stretch is worse, and he grits his teeth, taking air in small gasping breaths as it goes deeper and deeper.  
  
The Organic Mechanic repeats the process with yet another, bigger rod, until Max is crying out at the unnatural pain. He only gets it part way in before he stops and retracts it, not wanting to actually injure Max. He has a job to do later, and he can’t do it with a torn urethra.  
  
Max would vomit if there were anything in his stomach. He fears another, bigger rod, and doesn’t dare to look. What goes into him next doesn’t feel much bigger, and in fact feels like a ball on the end of a very narrow rod. It goes just into the head of his cock, and is accompanied by a cold metal ring slipping around him. The Organic Mechanic settles the ring right behind the head of his cock, then lets go and leaves it there. Max finally opens his eyes and tilts his head to see. All he can make out is a ring of wire around the end of his cock, an attached piece of wire curving around to fit inside him.  
  
When the Organic Mechanic stands next, he’s got another piece of metal in his hands. Another ring, wide and jointed, with a clasp which the Organic Mechanic pops open. He wraps the ring around the very base of Max’s cock, and clasps it shut with a small laugh. Max’s breathing becomes difficult again. The rings aren’t uncomfortably tight, but he knows the Organic Mechanic is just setting him up for something worse.  
  
The next object the Organic Mechanic picks up off the tray, Max recognizes as something that’s almost certainly going into his ass. It’s a dildo, with, disturbingly, a belt attached to it. The dildo isn’t huge, luckily, but about half way up its length, there’s a protrusion sticking out of it, smooth and sloped on the edges.  
  
The Organic Mechanic steps forward, looking at Max wickedly. “Had this made just for you.” He reaches one hand behind Max to grip his ass cheek, and pulls his body away from the wall, then brings the sex toy down between Max’s legs. It’s lubricated, but only barely, as the Organic Mechanic starts working it into him. He presses the first half of its length in quickly, making Max twitch and clench, and then comes the knob on the bottom of it. Max bites his lip and grunts painfully as he is stretched wider, almost as wide as he is stretched with Rictus. The Organic Mechanic works it in slowly now, and Max isn’t sure if it’s to prevent injury or make the pain last longer, but it’s certainly doing the latter. Max gasps as the apex passes into him, and arches uncomfortably. Finally the size decreases and Max clenches again as the Organic Mechanic pushes the more narrow base into him.  
  
He twists it back and forth and presses it in farther until Max’s body jerks as the knob presses right into his prostate. The Organic Mechanic chuckles with a smile, and pulls the belt around the front of Max’s hips, buckling it tightly to hold it in place. “You’re going to like this part,” he says, still smiling. He reaches between Max’s legs again, feeling for something on the dildo, then there’s a click and the whole thing starts vibrating harshly. Max’s eyes go wide at the shocking sensation, and his muscles tighten hard against his chains as he cries out and writhes.  
  
The Organic Mechanic steps back and enjoys his handiwork with a quiet laugh, watching as Max struggles uselessly, his teeth gritted and his eyes clamped shut hard.  
  
It’s so wrong, but as the vibrations pulse through him, Max can’t help but feel good. He tries to push it down. He won’t let himself get aroused from this. This is wrong. He’s got a cock ring, and something shoved into his dick, and a vibrator up his ass, and nothing about this is even tolerable. Except that the vibrator is pressing right into his prostate and making that now-familiar unwanted pleasure rocket through his body. He doesn’t care that the Organic Mechanic’s eyes are on him, molesting his body as his hands had done. He’s too caught up in his own internal struggle, until finally his body wins out, and his cock starts to harden. Max cries out again and lets his body sag, only twitching now and then as the vibrator continues buzzing away inside him.  
  
The Organic Mechanic laughs again and steps up to pat Max’s face, making him jump and open his watering eyes.  
  
“I’ll just let you enjoy that for a while.” With that he turns and leaves, closing the door to the cell behind him. Max groans and writhes as his cock reaches full hardness, throbbing in the tight confines of the rings around it.  
  
It only grows worse. The pleasure builds, his arousal strengthening. He doesn’t know how long it takes, but he eventually reaches the point where he feels he’s finally going to orgasm, and is both relieved that he’ll find release from the pleasure, and dreading that the process will eventually repeat, until the Organic Mechanic comes back to end this torment.  
  
Except he doesn’t cum. The pleasure and pressure and tension build and build until he doesn’t think he can take any more, but his body won’t release. Can’t release. He cries out in frustration. It’s overwhelming. Time drags on, and he doesn’t know how long he’s left alone in that room. Time is warped with no reference for its passage, running quickly and painfully slowly at the same time as he writhes in his pleasure and torture, crying for relief.  
  
He knocks himself unconscious once, by smashing his head back against the wall behind him until he’s out, but he doesn’t know how long it lasts, and he awakes to an aching head and the same almost painful arousal, which builds quickly back to the point of orgasm. And yet he is still denied it.  
  
By the time the Organic Mechanic comes back in, grinning in anticipation of the mess he expects to see Max in, Max does not disappoint. He looks up as soon as he hears the door open, his eyes teary and pleading.  
  
He needs to cum. He needs release from this hell. He should want the vibrator gone, but he doesn’t. He just wants the cock rings off so he can release the tension and feel even greater pleasure as he cums.  
  
“Please,” Max immediately rasps, his voice hoarse from yelling and moaning over the last hour. “Release…”  
  
The Organic Mechanic approaches him, smiling but saying nothing.  
  
“Need…” Max swallows hard. His mouth is dry. “Let… Let me…” He breaks down into a moan as the erratic, needy rocking of his hips causes the vibrator to press into him just right.  
  
“You want this off, huh?” The Organic Mechanic wraps his hand around Max’s cock and toys with the latch on the cock ring. Max bucks into his hand as the new stimulation sends an added shot of pleasure through him.  
  
He hates this so much, he wants to bash his head against the wall until he’s out and never wakes up again. But his body screams for release, and that’s all his mind can properly focus on. It doesn’t stop his face from burning with hate and humiliation as he thrusts weakly into the Organic Mechanic’s hand, mumbling and pleading in broken, disjointed words. “Please… Free…” He just needs it off.  
  
The Organic Mechanic slides his hand up and down his length, making Max moan again, and then he pulls at the ring around the tip of Max’s cock, slowly working it over the head and slipping the ball and wire out of him. Max watches with mesmerized attention, waiting for the second one to come off so he can finally cum.  
  
But the second one doesn’t come off. The Organic Mechanic puts the first ring down, and looks at Max again, his hands by his side. Max stares at him desperately.  
  
“Need… it off,” he manages to get out, but the Organic Mechanic only smiles.  
  
“You can have it off when you’ve done your job.”  
  
Max’s mind is a mess. What’s his job again? Whatever it is, he’ll do it, just as long as it gets this cock ring off of him.  
  
“Are you ready to go fuck now?”  
  
Max nods without even thinking.  
  
“Alright,” the Organic Mechanic calls toward the door behind him. “Take him to the breeder.”  
  
Warboys come in and start to unchain him. As soon as his hands are free, Max reaches quickly for his cock, but they catch his arms and force them behind his back, tying them tightly together. Max growls in frustration and fights it, but his body feels so weak, his head so light. They’ve left the vibrator in him, still strapped around his hips, and the pleasure is still overwhelming. He can’t even begin to walk, so they drag him along, his knees and shins and feet scraping along the ground.  
  
They bring him back up to a room adjacent to the infirmary, the same one they had dragged him to last time they bred him. A woman waits quietly, but looks up, startled as they drag the moaning blood bag in.  
  
“Alright, he’s finally ready for you. Took some convincing,” The Organic Mechanic laughs as he enters. The Warboys try to get Max to stand, but his legs give out and he falls to his knees. He looks up at the woman with a tear-streamed face. He doesn’t want to do this, but they’re going to make him no matter what, and if he doesn’t… if he doesn’t they’ll never let him have his release.  
  
The woman approaches hesitantly, a little horrified by the sight in front of her. Max pleads with his eyes, hobbling toward her on his knees. As she comes close, he looks at the Organic Mechanic, waiting for the cock ring to come off, but nobody makes a move to do so.  
  
“You don’t get that off until you’re inside her,” the Organic Mechanic says, and Max’s eyes snap back toward the woman in front of him. She looks a little fearful as she lowers herself to her knees in front of him. Max lunges forward, his hips already bucking needily, trying to find her opening with his cock. She has to guide him into her, and Max moans as she envelops him. The combined warmth of her body and the continued vibration against his prostate, however, just makes it worse. The pleasure somehow grows more, and yet he still can’t cum. The woman reaches down toward the cock ring, but the Organic Mechanic speaks up.  
  
“Nuh-uh. He needs to suffer a little more first. Leave it on.”  
  
A quiet sob shakes Max’s body, and he presses his muzzle against her shoulder as she braces her hands on his shoulders, and he thrusts into her fast and hard. He knows it won’t do any good, but his body just can’t stop. He starts to beg again, half of it nonsense at this point, panting heavily between words.  
  
The woman orgasms twice as he fucks her desperately, and yet Max is still denied. He hardly even notices the disturbance that starts up behind him as Rictus walks in the room, looking for his blood bag.  
  
“He’s mine!” Rictus bellows, moving forward, intending to pull Max away from the woman.  
  
“Orders from your dad, Rictus. If you don’t like it you can take it up with him, but the blood bag has got to impregnate her.”  
  
Rictus stops and grows quiet, watching Max for a minute. Max is covered in sweat and still thrusting, though more slowly and weakly now. He knows it won’t do any good until someone opens the cock ring for him, but he just can’t stop. He mutters pleads for release between pleasured moans, his body shaking.  
  
“…I want him,” Rictus finally says.  
  
“I told you,” the Organic Mechanic protests. “He has to do this.”  
  
“No, I want him here. Just like this.”  
  
The Organic Mechanic bursts out in a laugh. “Fine, Rictus. As long as he fucks the girl, you can do whatever you want to him.”  
  
Max jumps as Rictus drops to his knees behind him and reaches around to unbuckle the belt around his waist. He pulls the vibrator slowly out of Max, and tosses it aside.  
  
Max only moans as Rictus replaces the vibrator with his own cock. It hurts, as always, but his arousal dominates everything, and he could hardly care less. Rictus grips Max’s hips and adjusts his uneven thrusts to match the speed Rictus needs.  
  
Rictus presses into him in deep thrusts, moving his own hips forward as Max brings his back. Max shudders, his face still pressed against the woman’s shoulder. He kneels pinned between the two of them, his chest against the breeder in front of him and his back against Rictus’ chest, their sweat smearing together.  
  
Max pants, utterly exhausted, but still unable to stop his body. He lifts his head and starts to beg again. “Please…  the - the ring… please, release…”  
  
“Ah, yes, he’s wearing a cock ring,” the Organic Mechanic clarifies. “Can’t cum with it on. I’m afraid he went for the girl before we got a chance to take it off of him,” he lies.  
  
Rictus nods, and turns his attention back toward Max, but he doesn’t make a move to open it either, and Max groans in frustration.  
  
“Please,” he mutters, letting his head fall back beside Rictus’. “Please.”  
  
“Shhh.” Rictus slides his hands up max’s sides, trying to comfort him as he thrusts into his ass, moaning with each one. “I will, I will.”  
  
Max sobs quietly.  
  
The woman is growing tired, too, but knows she’s not allowed to pull away until they’re done, and the Organic Mechanic never gave her permission to open the cock ring. Rictus slowly builds toward his orgasm, and Max’s moans grow louder and louder. His cock is overstimulated, his ass is overstimulated and stretched to its limit, and still the pleasure sits in the base of his stomach, a tightness that just needs release so badly.  
  
Rictus mouths at Max’s ear, smiling at his moans and stroking him encouragingly. Max feels the woman clench around him as she orgasms weakly for a third time, gripping his shoulders for support, and Rictus goes a little faster as Max does, urged on by the arousal all around him.  
  
When Rictus is finally near his peak, he pulls Max back just enough to snake his hands down toward Max’s crotch, and blindly fumbles with the base of his cock. Finally he finds the clasp on the cock ring and pops it open. The ring falls away, and such a feeling rushes through Max that he cries out as it overtakes him. All the pleasure that had been building and building rushes through him with such force that his vision blanks out as he cums hard, filling the woman with his seed. At the same time, Rictus releases into him, pumping his own seed into Max’s ass, and the two of them moan together. Rictus holds Max close to his chest, pressing in and in as he orgasms, the experience made all the better by the fact that Max is orgasming at the same time. Max twists and arches as he finishes, his head falling back on Rictus’ shoulder as he yells through his pleasure.  
  
Finally complete, Max sags backward, his head drooping to his chest, his mind still reeling with pleasure as aftershocks run through is body. His cock, finally soft, slips out of the woman as she pulls back, putting her hand to her crotch to try to stop Max’s load from running back out of her. Rictus wraps his arms around Max’s chest and kisses the side of his head, his cock softening inside of him. Max hardly has a chance to think about what has just happened with a clear head before he passes out in Rictus’ arms, his body too exhausted to continue, his senses too overwhelmed. He’ll be lamenting his actions later, but now he simply doesn’t have it in him. Rictus pulls him close and rocks his limp form comfortingly.


	11. Chapter 11

Max stops eating after they forced him to breed for the second time, until they have to force food into him to keep him from starting to waste away. Nothing would be worse for Max than being forced to breed, nothing would be worse than being driven to _want_ to fuck the woman who would carry his child, but Max has no idea what is still in store for him.  
  
Rictus comes to the infirmary a couple times in the weeks following the breeding session he had joined in on. He takes Max away each time to fuck, and each time Max makes it very clear that he does not want to be fucked. He struggles and bites and kicks and punches, though it never does any good against Rictus. The man is just too strong, and always has the upper hand on Max, but Max still won’t just let himself be raped, so he fights regardless of what he knows the outcome will be.  
  
Rictus shows up in the infirmary again. He gives Max a glance on his way past, but heads straight for the Organic Mechanic. Max strains his ears to listen, knowing whatever Rictus wants to talk to the Organic Mechanic about will involve him.  
  
“I want him like he was before,” Rictus says in a hushed voice, peering at Max out of the corner of his eye.  
  
“Like what?” The Organic Mechanic is carefully patient with Rictus.  
  
“All… hot and sweaty and wanting.” He sounds a little embarrassed.  
  
The Organic Mechanic chuckles. “I can give you the cock ring and vibrator if that’s all you want.”  
  
Rictus looks disappointed. “That was the only reason he was like that?”  
  
“I’m afraid so. Just stimulation until he couldn’t take it anymore.”  
  
“Oh…”  
  
Max wants to curl up and die, listening to them talk about him like his only purpose is to be fucked. He’s been used and abused since he got here, and all he wishes is that it would end, one way or another.  
  
The Organic Mechanic looks thoughtful. “Check with me in a few days. I might be able to get my hands on something for you.”  
  
With a nod, Rictus turns away. He looks at Max again as if he’s considering taking him now anyway, and Max curls up tighter in his cage, trying to make himself small. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep breathing as he waits for the bottom of his cage to drop out from under him, but when he opens his eyes Rictus is gone, and he sags against his knees, relieved for now.  
  
The few days pass far too quickly, and when Max sees Rictus again he tries to swallow down the feeling of foreboding that settles in his gut.  
  
“Ah, there you are,” the Organic Mechanic says as he sees Rictus approach. “This stuff wasn’t easy to…” His voice fades away as Rictus follows him into his exam room. Max barely breathes. There is no way this will end well for him.  
  
A few minutes later they return. The Organic Mechanic holds a small brown bottle in his hand. Rictus listens to him with interest. “…Just gotta get enough of it in him.”  
  
They pull Max out, put him on his feet, and Rictus holds him in his powerful grip as Max struggles.  
  
“He’s been really stubborn about eating lately. Don’t want him just spitting this out again.” The Organic Mechanic pulls a short length of thick plastic tube out from his pocket. “Tilt his head back.”  
  
With one arm tightly around Max’s shoulders, Rictus puts a hand over his forehead and pulls his head backward. Max struggles, grunting fearfully as the Organic Mechanic works the tube past his clamped teeth, slides it into his mouth, and forces it down his throat.  
  
“He doesn’t like it…” Rictus says with worry as Max jerks in his grip.  
  
“Oh, he will.” The Organic Mechanic grins as he carefully unscrews the top of the bottle and pours the liquid slowly into the opening of the tube. He checks the level of the bottle, pours a little more down Max’s throat, then screws the cap back on before pulling the tube out of Max’s mouth. Max coughs and gasps.  
  
“Give that maybe half an hour to kick in, and then he’ll be all yours.” The Organic Mechanic is still grinning.  
  
Rictus nods and hefts Max up into his arms, holding him tight as Max tries to fight him. Max doesn’t know what they just gave him, but he knows the results are probably not going to be pleasant, and he knows regardless of what it does, Rictus intends to fuck him.  
  
By the time Rictus brings him to his room, Max is starting to feel warm and flushed. Rictus drops Max on the bed and lies down next to him, putting an arm around his chest as he tries to move away. He rolls Max onto his side and presses his lips against the back of Max’s neck, breathing in his scent. Max’s bound hands scratch at Rictus’ stomach, looking for some way to hurt him but finding nothing but smooth skin that he can’t get a grip on.  
  
“We’re gonna bond,” Rictus murmurs behind him, reaching to stroke Max’s cheek. Max tries to bite him, but Rictus simply pries his hand from Max’s teeth and grips his jaw tightly. “When you want me, we’re gonna be bonded, and you’ll be mine. Dad can’t take that away from us.”  
  
Max doesn’t know what Rictus is talking about, and he fights his grip for a while before he finally lies still, panting lightly. His body feels so hot. Finally Rictus gets up, leaving Max alone on the bed as he goes to retrieve something. Max rolls to the edge and stands up, but Rictus is suddenly behind him, and grips the back of his neck harshly. He bends him over the bed and pins him as he unties his arms and then strips his shirt off.  
  
“This is for wives,” Rictus admits as he lets Max up, “but I secretly borrowed it. I think it’s what you’re supposed to use for this.”  
  
Max pushes himself up and turns on Rictus, only to get a puff of white powder in his face. He grunts, blinded, and reaches up to rub it from his eyes.  
  
“No, leave it.” Rictus pulls his hands away from his face, and Max fights him. But it never does any good. He only slows Rictus down for a little while, and Max soon finds himself forced to his knees at the foot of the bed, his wrists tethered to the bed posts with strips of white cloth.  
  
“Just until you decide you want me,” Rictus assures him. He dusts the white powder lightly all across Max’s body as Max pulls uselessly at his restraints.   
  
Max grimaces and can’t help but feel concerned by whatever this is. It’s not hurting him, but what had Rictus said? Bonding and something about wives? Surely Rictus isn’t delusional enough to actually think Max can make a baby for him.  
  
The talc clings in the sweat that’s starting to emerge across Max’s skin. When Rictus has got Max covered from the waist up and has smoothed the powder lightly into Max’s skin to make it a few shades lighter, he dips his finger in a small container of black, then grips the back of Max’s head and smears the soot across his mouth.   
  
“There. Now you look the part.” He steps back and admires his work as Max struggles and glares. “We don’t need to do the marriage ceremony. I’m going to marry a girl some day. I just want you to be mine so nobody else can take you.”   
  
Max tenses suddenly when he feels his blood run south and his cock start to strain at the confines of his trousers. His eyes widen and he looks down at himself. He is not turned on by any of this, so why the hell is he hard? Had what they given him been an aphrodisiac?   
  
Rictus comes closer again. “We’ll just go straight to the bonding part.”   
  
Max goes as still as he can, hoping Rictus won’t notice, but Rictus looks down and smiles. He drops to his knees in front of Max and his hand drifts down to the bulge in Max’s trousers.  
  
“There you go,” he encourages, stroking Max’s erection through the leather. “It’s gonna be fun.”   
  
Max grunts as the sensation of being touched makes him harder. He tries to pull his hips back, away from the touch, but finds himself backed up against the foot of the bed.  
  
Rictus begins undoing Max’s trousers, and Max can’t help the moan that escapes him when he frees his erection, cool air hitting his hot skin. A large hand wraps around him, and Max’s hips twitch reflexively. He shakes his head and writhes, wishing for escape. He doesn’t want this to be happening. He doesn’t want to be forced to want this again.  
  
By the time Rictus has both their clothing off and Max’s arms unbound, Max has become a panting, desperate mess. His mind still screams against this, his eyes searching for some kind of escape, but his body wants, and he has to keep pushing the arousal out of his mind. His cock is hard and throbbing for attention, and he writhes on the bed, his hand going down to stroke himself. His body wants to be touched, aches for stimulation.  
  
Rictus spreads Max’s legs and moves between his thighs, sliding a pillow under Max’s lower back. He grips his wrists and pulls Max’s hands away from himself. Max groans as his cock is left unstimulated, and his hips roll against Rictus, his body asking to be touched. Rictus’ hand replaces Max’s, stroking and rubbing, and his large cock teases between Max’s legs. Max finds them spreading wider for him, inviting him in.  
  
He’s horrified by what his traitorous body is doing, that it’s making him act like he wants sex. He’s lost control of his own body again and his eyes burn with tears. He tries to scream and make it fight, but all he hears is another moan, and his jerky twitches settle back into another needy roll of his hips.  
  
His breaths come quick, partly from his arousal, partly from his panic at the thought of what is about to happen to him. He squeezes his eyes shut, part of him wanting Rictus to push into him, wanting that huge cock pressing into his body, into his prostate, and part of him absolutely dreading it. Dreading that he’s going to _like_ it. His body quivers and presses toward Rictus anyway. Rictus responds, pressing forward, the head of his cock just starting to squeeze into Max’s tight hole as his hand continues to stroke him. Biting his lip, Max flexes his hips again, forcing the head the rest of the way into himself. He gasps and his toes curl, though it’s not nearly enough, not what he needs. But Rictus has stopped, looking down at Max with a look of indecision before he pulls back, his cock slipping out of him. Max breathes again, an incredible relief washing over his mind despite the sinking disappointment he feels in his stomach and groin.  
  
Rictus moves back, but then leans forward between Max’s legs. Max watches with wide eyes as Rictus’ lips meet the head of his erect cock in the gentlest of touches, then spread slowly as his head dips down and Max watches his cock gradually slide into the other man’s mouth. He moans at the wet heat enveloping him, his skin prickling at the feel of teeth lightly scraping his flesh, and his hips buck forward, wanting more. Rictus pulls back slightly, then presses a hand to Max’s hip, holding him down as he slides back around his cock, taking him in deeper, bit by bit.  
  
It takes Rictus a few tries to swallow Max down, but he keeps at it until he’s got all of Max in his mouth, the tip of his tongue playing at the base of Max’s cock. Max is disgusted by the moans coming from him as his hips twitch and his hands grip fistfuls of the sheets.  
  
Rictus pulls off, his broad tongue licking the length of Max’s cock, then he grips the base and sucks on the head, his tongue lapping at the sensitive skin. Max gasps as teeth scrape lightly down his length again as Rictus takes him back in.  
  
He alternates between taking Max in deeply, his throat fitting nicely around Max’s cock and his tongue massaging his length, and pulling back to breathe. He licks and sucks, until Max is moaning loudly with pleasure, his body rolling with it, his eyes rolled back in his head.  
  
All of a sudden it all washes over Max in a flood, his hips thrusting forward and his muscles tightening as an orgasm overtakes him. Rictus pulls off quickly as Max starts to cum, spitting a mouthful out onto Max’s thigh. He slides his hand around him and squeezes him as Max shudders and cums in wave after wave, until his moans quiet down and his body stills.  
  
Rictus crawls forward and lies down half on top of Max, listening to his heavy breathing and stroking his side, a smile on his face. Rictus kisses his jaw, and Max shudders faintly with an exhale, the last of the pleasure seeping out of him. As his breathing calms, his senses come back to him, and he starts to think more clearly. He closes his legs, still spread wide from when Rictus was between them, and moves uncomfortably under Rictus’ weight. He knows the aphrodisiac is what’s causing him to be like this, but he’s still disturbed by how he had acted, and the feelings that had gone through him. The feelings that are still going through him. He may be soft now, but he still feels embarrassingly horny, and can’t help but think about Rictus finishing what he had started with his ass, pressing inside of him and fucking him until that ecstasy of sensation overtakes Max again. He grunts, horrified by the idea even as he wants it. What is wrong with him? This is the last thing he wants. Why can’t he control himself and push down the arousal that’s making him act this way? He tries to wiggle out from under Rictus again, but gives up when the man doesn’t even move, and he lies still, letting tears run slowly from the corners of his eyes.  
  
Max is only satisfied for a little while, and as soon as he’s had a good rest, he finds himself hardening against Rictus’ hip again. Max moans in misery, but it still comes out sounding like pleasure. Rictus pushes himself off of Max with a smile, his own cock still hard and waiting. Max gets up slowly and finds himself getting on his hands and knees without being forced, his ass presented to Rictus for fucking. His face burns with humiliation, but his orgasm barely slicked his unwanted lust, and his body yearns for more. He tries again to make himself run, to stop offering his body like he wants this, to fight it and get the hell out of here, but he’s so aroused. He jumps as Rictus caresses his ass, and he thinks he can do it, thinks he can get himself to jump up and run, but instead his body presses back into the touch, wanting nothing but more sex to feed his arousal.  
  
Rictus takes the invitation happily, and spreads oil liberally across their skin, Max’s hole clenching teasingly around his finger as he slides it into him. Max gasps as Rictus presses his whole finger in, but it only briefly slides over his prostate and slips back out, leaving him feeling disappointed. He adjusts his legs, spreading them slightly to open himself up to Rictus more, pleading for his touch. Unbeknownst to Rictus, his eyes are squeezed shut and his teeth clenched, the rational side of his brain humiliated and angry and bewildered. This is wrong. Why is he doing this? Come on, run! His body shakes, but stays presented for Rictus.  
  
Rictus takes his throbbing cock in hand and moves up to Max until their thighs touch. He slides into him quickly and smoothly, and Max cries out, the pain and sickening feeling of being invaded everything he had dreaded, while simultaneously being just what his body was wanting. Rictus rarely aims for Max’s prostate, but he presses against it by virtue of sheer size. Usually Max is able to push the feeling down, but when he’s turned on and his body desperately wants it, it’s just enough to make him moan.  
  
Rictus moves in and out, filling Max up with his cock again and again, making him moan even as the stretch hurts. He can deal with pain. This is what his body wants, even if his mind is screaming for it to stop. He braces himself as Rictus starts to go harder and faster, their breaths and moans coming in unison. Rictus grips Max’s waist and pulls him back against him as he thrusts forward, pressing in as deep as he can. He holds himself there, just feeling Max as he quivers and clenches around him, until Max grunts impatiently and jerks his hips, the movement sending a shot of pleasure through both of them. Rictus rubs Max’s skin with his thumb as he smiles, and finally pulls back to press in again, picking up his rhythm where he left off.  
  
Max closes his eyes and tries to push it all down, to force it out of his mind, but the arousal has overtaken him, and his body continues to act without his permission. He needs a different angle, needs that cock right on his prostate. He pushes himself up, reaching back to hold on to Rictus to steady himself. Encouraged, Rictus rams into him, and Max cries out again in pleasure, his nerves sparking as Rictus hits his prostate hard.  
  
“There,” Max grunts, surprising himself with the word. He tries to bite his tongue, to stop himself from dropping to the level of actually begging for this, but a raspy “please” escapes him as well, and a cry of pleasure follows as Rictus slams into that spot again, lighting up his nerves. “Y-yes,” he moans, hating himself as he encourages Rictus to keep going.   
  
Rictus hums happily in his ear and bites at it playfully as he fucks him hard, holding Max close. Max grits his teeth as pleasure and pain, satisfaction and despair all rush through him simultaneously. Rictus’ hand slides down to wrap around Max’s hard cock, and Max arches his back, the added stimulation pushing him closer and closer to the edge.  
  
“Almost there,” Rictus moans, hitting Max several more times in just the right spot before he gives his cock a squeeze and sends him toppling over the edge. Max loses all control of his body as he cries out with his orgasm, his muscles shuddering all over with pleasure. Rictus follows a moment after, pumping his load into Max’s ass as Max shoots his across the bed. When their pleasure fades, they’re left panting, their bodies still pressed together, Max’s mind reeling with overstimulation.  
  
Rictus lowers the both of them down and lays Max on the bed right in the wet stripe of his own cum. Max doesn’t even have the mind to care. Rictus doesn’t bother to pull himself out of Max’s ass, and it should be uncomfortable and agonizing, but Max just finds it arousing, and wonders again what the hell is wrong with him.  
  
“Now you’re really mine,” Rictus whispers breathlessly. “You’re mine and no one else’s.” Finally his blood bag had wanted to have sex with him, and Rictus feels close to him in a whole new way. They’re bonded now.  
  
Max isn’t exactly sure what changed to make Rictus decide this, but he doesn’t really care. His mind is focused on other things, like how long this aphrodisiac will last and if Rictus will give him the chance to have a third orgasm before it wears off. He shakes his head faintly and mutters a hateful string of insults at himself. When did he let his body’s wants take over his mind? This is wrong, and he shouldn’t want it. He flexes his body weakly, trying to get Rictus out of him, but Rictus holds him too tightly, petting Max’s arm slowly. The powder Rictus had spread across Max’s body only shows itself in streaks here and there, the rest of it smeared off onto the sheets or Rictus’ skin.  
  
Max thinks maybe he’s coming out of it, regaining control of himself, but as Rictus shifts, his soft cock tugging inside him, Max moans quietly and finds himself grinding down onto Rictus. Rictus just strokes him wordlessly and breathes deeply against Max’s hair.  
  
Rictus rests for a while, and when he finally moves to pull himself out of Max, Max grows hard again with a groan. He wants to be sick. What the hell is wrong with him? Rictus turns him around to hold him chest-to-chest, the top of Max’s head nestled under Rictus’ chin. Max’s hips buck needily, and Rictus slips one hand down to stroke him softly.  
  
“Shhh…” He holds Max with a hand firmly on his back and just lets him rock his hips against him until he finally cums again, weakly and with a small whimper.  
  
Max is still horny when Rictus returns him to the infirmary, even after a second bout of being fucked up the ass. The aphrodisiac seems to only be making Max worse rather than wearing off. Rictus hardly even needed to hit Max’s pleasure spots to get him off that time.  
  
He brings Max in with a hard cock straining against his trousers, and leaves him with the Organic Mechanic. When Rictus has left, the Organic Mechanic pushes Max back against the wall and slowly slides his grimy hand down Max’s trousers to jerk him off with a filthy grin. He laughs, reveling in Max’s humiliation at liking it, his moans barely restrained as he cums for the fourth time. The Organic Mechanic lets Max collapse weakly on the floor, his body spent, his legs barely able to work any longer.  
  
By the time the Organic Mechanic finally has Max hauled up and put back in his cage, his cock is ready to go again, and he’s is on the verge of tears at what his body is doing. The Organic Mechanic leaves him with his boner, his hands tied behind his back in his cage. He laughs quietly as he watches Max writhe uselessly, trying without success to get the friction he needs to find relief, until he finally gives up and sags back against the bars of his cage, panting, too tired to even try.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is taking really long and I’m not even done yet. Here’s the first half. The rest will go into the next chapter.

Max is asleep when the Organic Mechanic releases the door below him and drops him out of his cage. He wakes with a surprised yell, his muscles tensing to fight, his head spinning from the sudden drop.  
  
“Cut him down. Get him up there _now_.” Max has never heard the Organic Mechanic sound so urgent.  
  
He’s still dizzy and confused as they pull him down and immediately start dragging him out of the room. He’s terrified at first that they plan to rape him again, but this time feels different. The Organic Mechanic isn’t leering, and the Warboys aren’t smiling amongst themselves. Everybody is serious, their motions purposeful. A Warboy locks Max’s muzzle onto him as they move.   
  
He feels like a broken shell again after his last encounter with Rictus. He doesn’t know how to reconcile the way he acted with him and with the breeder. There must be something wrong with him. He doesn’t fight the Warboys as they manhandle him through the Citadel, and eventually he gets his feet under him and walks by his own power.  
  
They lead him through unfamiliar passageways, one of them eventually opening up into a large, well-lit room with green plants all around. They hang in rows of troughs suspended by chains, and a fine mist fills the air, sprayed through hoses to water the plants. Max stops, looking up in awe as fine water droplets hit his face and the green fills his vision, but he stumbles as the Warboys yank his bound arms, pulling him along. They stop briefly at a massive bank vault door set in the rock. The Organic Mechanic opens it quickly, and they drag Max into the narrow passageway behind it.  
  
“Brought my best blood bag,” the Organic Mechanic says as they emerge from the passageway into a larger room. Max looks up at the glass dome and the furnishings and piles of books all around him.  
  
“Hook him up.”  
  
Max flinches at the voice and looks over to see Joe standing off to the side of the room, looking agitated. Max’s gaze snaps to the ground and he goes completely still, terror rising up in him at seeing the man who broke him. They drag him over toward a woman sitting in a chair by a pool of water, her forearms wrapped tightly in blood-stained strips of cloth. An old woman covered in tattooed words dabs blood from cuts on her forehead and cheek. They stand Max next to the glaring woman, and at Joe’s order the Warboys leave the vault.  
  
Without their hands on him, Max could run, but there are still a couple Imperators, in addition to Joe and the Organic Mechanic, so he stays quiet and still, flinching only slightly as the Organic Mechanic puts a needle into him and connects him to the woman.  
  
Max catches movement out of the corner of his eye and looks up, startled. There are four other women watching from a book-lined doorway, all of them looking worried. Max sees Joe shift where he’s standing, and quickly redirects his vision back downward.  
  
As his blood drains slowly from him to her, Max can feel the injured woman’s eyes on him. He feels like she knows, somehow, what Joe did to him. She knows that he’s been tortured and raped and used. He cringes at the thought, but when he risks a glance over at her, he notices the bulge of her belly. She’s been used, too. She’s a breeder, as he is. His eyes wander to her bandaged forearms, realizing she probably did that herself. He can’t fault her for that. He doesn’t know if she’s as physically abused as he is, but doesn’t doubt that being forced to give birth to a child  against her will is probably far worse than his experience of being forced to father one, as painful as it is for him.  
  
“Why is he wearing the muzzle?” It’s Joe’s voice, and Max cringes, his eyes snapping back to his own feet.  
  
“He’s gone back to biting,” the Organic Mechanic answers, pretending to sound regretful. “Nearly took a chunk out of a Warboy’s arm.”  
  
Joe grunts disapprovingly. His gaze feels like it’s burning Max’s skin, and Max wishes he could shrink out of existence. He looks toward Joe without moving his lowered head as he sees Joe’s feet take a couple steps to the side. Joe whispers something to the Imperator standing next to him, then moves back to where he was standing and watches with his arms crossed. Max closes his eyes and waits for this to be over, hoping they’ll just take him back to his cage afterward. But he can feel multiple gazes on him, and he starts to shake minutely, his eyes snapping back open to look around for some escape.  
  
The Organic Mechanic checks on the woman periodically, checking her pulse and examining her color. Max can tell she hates his filthy hands on her as much as he does. It takes a long time, and Max wishes his blood would flow faster to get this over with and get him out from under Joe’s gaze. The warlord doesn’t move the entire time, watching like a hawk. When finally the Organic Mechanic pulls the needles out of both Max and the woman, Max looks up cautiously, hoping they’ll take him back now.  
  
“Watch her carefully,” Joe growls at the old woman with the tattoos. He turns and leaves, and one of the Imperators shoves Max from behind to follow him and the Organic Mechanic. There are Warboys waiting outside who take Max between them, and Max looks around nervously. The Imperator Joe had whispered to makes a hand motion as Joe and the Organic Mechanic start to go in separate directions, and the Warboys take Max to follow Joe. Max tries to swallow down his fear, but his legs start shaking and he stumbles.  
  
Max watches Joe’s back fearfully as the Warboys drag him along behind him. He’s going to be punished again. He knows it. He’s going to be punished for biting, and Joe is going to try to break him again.   
  
He spots light down a tunnel off to the side. A door? A window? He doesn’t even care if it opens up to a sheer drop. He takes a deep breath, shoves his weight suddenly into the Warboy beside him, and runs for it.  
  
There’s yelling and rapid footsteps behind him, and Max doesn’t even dare look back. He comes closer to the light source and is relieved to find it is a door, light shining through a dirty window in the top half, and leaking around the edges where it doesn’t quite fit into the cut rock. He slams his body into it desperately, but it doesn’t budge. Grunting, terrified, he spins around and fumbles at the door handle with his bound hands. The Warboys and Imperator are approaching quickly, and Max manages to twist the handle and yank the door open just before they reach him. He spins out of the way of their grabbing hands and slips through the gap in the door.   
  
He’s blinded by sunlight and falters reflexively, but reminds himself quickly that he doesn’t care if there’s a bridge here or if his next steps will take him to his death. He just needs to get away from Joe. He takes a first step forward, but suddenly there are hands on him, gripping his arm and shoulder, then one pulling at the back of his shirt and an arm around his stomach. He pulls hard, fighting them, trying to get to the edge, but the third reaches him, grabbing his muzzle and pulling him back by his head. Max grunts as he struggles and fights, but the three men drag him back into the dark tunnel and slam the door shut again. They pull him away from the door and Max watches his hope for escape disappear with the light.  
  
He stops struggling only when they shove him to his knees in front of Joe. Max cringes, expecting punishment. The Imperator grabs a fistful of Max’s hair and tilts his head up toward Joe as Joe steps forward and takes hold of his muzzle. Max looks at him in terror, then clamps his eyes shut, waiting.  
  
“I’ll deal with his behavior myself.” Joe lets go suddenly and turns to continue walking.  
  
“Yes, Immortan.” The Imperator and Warboys haul Max up and continue after Joe, a Warboy gripping each of Max’s arms, the Imperator dragging him along by his muzzle.  
  
They bring him to Joe’s rooms, and at Joe’s signal, the Warboys leave, but the Imperator continues to drag Max by his muzzle. He takes him toward a heavy wooden table, and Max resists as the Imperator walks him up to it and tries to force his body down onto it.   
  
“Down, feral!” He pushes hard, and Max finds himself bent over the table, the Imperator pressing the side of Max’s face into the smooth wood surface with a strong arm. Max struggles weakly as he hears Joe’s boots approach behind him.  
  
“So, you’re biting and trying to escape, hm? Seems you didn’t learn your lesson the last time. I guess it’ll take more than that to break you.” Joe glares down at Max, and Max trembles, looking up at him out of the corner of his eye. Joe leans down and places his hands on Max’s hips. “A shame I’m going to have to damage my son’s favorite toy.”  
  
Max clamps his eyes shut and takes a shaky breath. Joe had put him through a lot last time, and though he’s been in arguably worse situations since, he still can’t help but feel terrified of Joe. There was something about the way Joe used him that made the subsequent aphrodisiac and cock ring seem tame by comparison.  
  
“No no, please, no.” Max finds himself begging as he feels Joe start to undo his trousers and pull them slowly down. His heart pounds rapidly in his chest in fear, and he jerks his body again, trying to get free.  
  
“You have to learn,” Joe says casually, working Max’s clothing down and exposing his ass. “This is what happens when you’re disobedient.”  
  
Max lets out a whimper as Joe’s hands smooth over his ass. They slide around to his hips, then up his sides under his shirt. Max flinches as Joe strokes his hand over his brand wound, feeling its edges and pressing into it without regard for the pain it causes. He toys with the sensitive injury for a minute, watching Max twitch and struggle, then his hands slip away from Max’s skin and work quickly at his own belt and trousers. Max tries to shake his head, though it’s still pinned under the Imperator’s hand. He stretches his bound arms, trying to cover his ass, to guard it from the violation he knows is coming, but he can’t.  
  
Joe’s hands are suddenly on him again, his nails scraping at Max’s skin as he grabs two handfuls of his ass and pulls him open. Max lets out a surprised grunt, quickly turning to a whine of fear as he feels Joe’s cockhead press at his hole, the lumpy organ already starting to squeeze into him. Max writhes as Joe pushes in quickly, a scream rising in Max’s throat as he goes in dry. Joe grunts and jerks his hips, sending another shot of pain through Max’s body.  
  
Tears well up in Max’s eyes as flashes run through his head, horrifying memories of the last time he had Joe’s cock inside him, and the torment and agony that had gone with it. He can feel it throbbing within him, can feel every lump on it as they catch on his rim, and the leak of precum on Joe’s cock as he pulls all the way out only to jab into him again, sometimes violently quickly, forcing Max’s body to jerk forward on the table, and sometimes agonizingly slowly, making Max feel every inch of him.  
  
“If you obey me,” Joe growls, snapping his hips forward and making Max cry out in pain, “I won’t force you to like this again.” He braces his hands on the table on either side of Max’s hips as he slides back out of him. “But if you defy me, I will make you regret it. I can make this so much worse for you.” He finds Max’s entrance again and presses in slowly, leaning over him dominantly. “Do you understand?”  
  
Max nods under the Imperator’s palm, squeezing his eyes shut to try to stop the tears, but a sob shakes his body as Joe starts fucking him in earnest, jerking him back and forth on the table as he uses him ruthlessly. The Imperator stands dutifully by, holding Max down as Joe rapes him.  
  
Max bites his lip as Joe works in and out of his ass violently, jerking his hips upward now and then just to hear Max scream. Joe grunts and pants with the effort, and smiles behind his mask at his victim’s pain as Max cries out below him, but lays limp on the table, taking his punishment like he should.   
  
“That’s a good boy. Just let Daddy take what’s his.” He thrusts in hard enough to force a grunt of air out of Max, and grips his arms to push in deeper. “This body is mine to ruin, and I intend to do just that.” Max doesn’t doubt that he will, with how roughly Joe is treating him. He doesn’t want to be reduced to a broken thing again, but he’s fully at Joe’s mercy, and can barely move to fight back.  
  
When Joe is finally finished, he doesn’t cum inside of Max, but pulls out and releases his load across Max’s ass, back, and hands. The Imperator finally lets up his crushing hold on the side of Max’s head, and Max lies limp across the table, gasping for breath after the assault and crying quietly. He can feel the thick cum slowly running down his skin, and he buries his face against his shoulder, his body still shaking.  
  
Joe steps back and slowly pulls his belt loose and wraps one end around his hand. He admires the quivering man below him, then swings the belt in a forceful arc, landing it across Max’s back with a snap. Max jolts and cries out at the sudden strike, and another lands before he can even manage to lift his body off the table and try to escape.  
  
Blow after blow lands on Max’s back and arms and ass, until Max has stopped trying to get up and is making little more than pained grunts at each stroke, lying still on the table with his eyes clamped shut and his teeth gritted. The pain is far more tolerable than being violated, but is still enough to halt Max’s attempts to escape. Even with the protection of his shirt, he can feel welts rising on his skin. The beating continues until his back, arms, and ass feel numb, save for the sharp spike of pain when a hit lands. Finally the attack stops, and Max lies unmoving except for his ragged, gasping breaths.  
  
Joe steps away and the Imperator pulls up Max’s trousers, then lifts Max up from the table and turns him around. Max keeps his eyes on the floor as he sees Joe’s boots approach again from the other side of the room. Feeling slowly returns to his back, a tingling at first, then a burning, aching pain that grows worse and worse. He tries to flex his swollen hands, but grunts quietly in pain when they barely move, and shifts his weight to his other foot. His ass aches inside and out.  
  
“Untie his arms. I think he’s learned his place again for now.”  
  
The Imperator does as he’s told, and Max slowly, cautiously, moves his arms in front of him, pulling his sore shoulders forward and hunching his back with a grimace. He doesn’t dare try to wipe the cum off his hands, though he can still feel it sticky between his fingers.   
  
Joe pushes at the bottom of Max’s muzzle, lifting his head up to face him. “Show me your loyalty.”  
  
Max hesitates. He has no loyalty to Joe, only fear. He could attack him now that he’s untied. He doubts he would succeed, but maybe Joe would just kill him for it. It might be his only way out. But he’s terrified of what will happen if Joe doesn’t decide to kill him. He can’t take another session like his first time with Joe. Maybe he can get off relatively easy if he just appeases the warlord. Slowly, Max drops to his knees and brings his hands up above his head, lacing his fingers together with difficulty, in the V8 salute he’s seen the Warboys do in Joe’s presence.  
  
Joe laughs quietly. “Good boy.” He leans down and puts a leather collar around Max’s neck and buckles it snugly. “Keep being good and I won’t have to replace this with the shock collar.”  
  
Max nods, hating himself for submitting to this. He should try to escape, should take this rare chance. He’s unbound and there’s only an old man and an Imperator to stop him. But he puts his head down instead. He doesn’t know a quick way out of here, and knows he wouldn’t make it far. Even freedom isn’t worth the risk.  
  
Joe’s fingers slip through the muzzle and push into Max’s mouth, and Max closes his eyes, letting his arms slowly drop from their salute. He lets Joe push his fingers in deeper and doesn’t bite. He wouldn’t even bite if Joe were to shove his cock in his mouth right now. He’s too afraid.  
  
“Take the muzzle off,” Joe orders the Imperator, sliding his fingers out of Max’s mouth. Max doesn’t see Joe reach for his own trousers again.  
  
The Imperator complies, pulling out a key and unlocking the muzzle, but clears his throat hesitantly. “Immortan, the meeting will be starting soon.”  
  
Max opens his eyes and tries to calm himself with a deep breath as the muzzle is pulled away from his face.  
  
Joe makes an annoyed noise. “Fine. I suppose the rest of his training is going to have to wait.” He pauses. “Or maybe…” Joe’s fingers hook under Max’s collar and he pulls upward, forcing Max to get to his feet again. He looks at Max like a piece of meat. “Maybe you can make this meeting a little less tedious.” He pulls on Max’s collar and attaches a leash to it, then turns and strides toward the door. Max stumbles after him as Joe leads him out of his rooms and through the tunnels of the Citadel, the Imperator following close behind.  
  
“Don’t let yourself be seen or heard,” Joe tells Max as he tugs him along by his leash, “but when I signal you…” Joe’s voice becomes low and quiet. “Pleasure me.”  
  
Max swallows down his horror as Joe leads him toward the same set of doors behind which he had last seen the warlord. The Imperator moves ahead and opens the door for Joe, and Joe enters without pause. Max continues to follow behind him, his head down like a beaten dog. The room is empty, and Joe seats himself at the head of the long table, motioning to the floor beside him. Max hesitates, his eyes darting around the room for a means of escape. There are windows on the far side of the room, but too high to climb out of. Max jumps as Joe yanks hard on the leash, and he slowly lowers himself to the floor beside Joe’s chair. Joe’s hand comes to rest on Max’s head, and he runs his fingers through his hair, making Max shudder faintly at the touch. The Imperator approaches to take the leash from Joe and attach it to the front leg of the chair, then goes to stand by the door, watching Max distrustfully.  
  
When footsteps sound through the hall outside the door, Joe’s hand slides down to the back of Max’s head, and he pushes him lightly toward the table. Max quickly crawls underneath, and looks past Joe’s legs at the men who enter. He recognizes one set of legs instantly. It’s hard to miss the over-sized man who has fucked him more than anybody else here. Max scarcely dares to breathe as Rictus greets his father and comes around the table to sit by him. He sets something down in the chair nearest Joe, a portable chair of some sort with small, bare feet peeking under the table, and takes the next chair down.  
  
Max hardly notices the men who enter afterward, his mind occupied with what-ifs of Rictus discovering his presence. He doesn’t know how he would react. Would he protect him from Joe? Or would he not dare to defy his father, despite his desire to keep his blood bag safe? Would he be angry if he found Max in the act of pleasuring Joe? Would he punish him later? He could reach out and touch his knee before this situation gets worse, to let him know he’s there. It seems ridiculous to run from one rapist to the ‘safety’ of another, but Max would take Rictus over Joe any day. Except for that constant terror of angering Joe. His hand hovers in the air toward Rictus, but finally he lets it drop. Joe would surely punish him.  
  
When everybody is present Joe begins the meeting, and Max phases out, crouched on his knees under the table, trying hide by Joe without getting too close, but also close enough to Rictus that Max is afraid he will find him if he stretches out his leg.  
  
Nearly an hour passes, and Max sits silently, focusing on the pain across his back and arms to try to keep himself present and conscious. He still almost misses Joe’s signal as his mind drifts in and out. Joe slides his arm subtly down from the arm rest of his chair and jerks his hand toward his crotch, the motion getting more insistent until it catches Max’s eye and he jumps to attention, coming forward and putting his hand cautiously on Joe’s knee. He can see the bulge in Joe’s trousers, his erection demanding attention. Max swallows nervously. What would Joe do if Max didn’t pleasure him as ordered? He doesn’t think he would stop the meeting, or show Max to the other people present. He gets the feeling Joe doesn’t want any of them to know he’s got a slave hiding under the table waiting to get him off at his command. But after the meeting, Max would not be safe. He considers running instead, as he watches Joe’s hand slide to the erection and carefully free it from his trousers. Max could unbuckle the collar and make a break for it, maybe get out before anybody can figure out what’s going on. He glances at the Imperator waiting by the door, the same one who had grabbed his muzzle and dragged him back from the ledge. The one who had pinned him as Joe raped him.  
  
No, he would be caught and punished again. He doesn’t know if he can run with the throbbing ache that seems to have taken over his entire body anyway. Joe motions toward his erection again, and Max crawls slowly between his open knees and reaches out to wrap an injured hand around it. He closes his eyes and shudders at the feel of the tumorous thing in his hand, but rubs up and down Joe’s length, trying not to be sick. He doesn’t see Joe’s hand coming. He feels it grip a fistful of his hair suddenly, and pull him forward slowly but forcefully, until Max’s nose bumps into the tip of Joe’s cock, and he forces back a whimper. It’s clear what Joe wants, and Max doesn’t think he can stomach it quietly. As he sits staring at the cock right in front of him in indecision, the fist grips harder, pulling Max’s short hair hard enough to make him grimace. Max exhales a deep breath across Joe’s skin and closes his eyes again, trying to put himself elsewhere. He imagines himself out in the wasteland, driving freely in his car on the open road. He thinks about anywhere but here, as he hesitantly reaches out his tongue and licks Joe’s cockhead. The grip in his hair loosens at the touch, and he licks again, moving in just a bit closer until his lips touch and he starts to take him slowly into his mouth.   
  
He stops with just the head of Joe’s cock past his lips and looks down at the rest of the length he’ll have to fit in his mouth and almost heaves in disgust. He massages the head of Joe’s cock with his tongue, hoping to keep him satisfied without having to take his entire cock into his mouth. Max’s hopes are dashed as Joe’s hand slides around the back of his head and pushes him down onto him slowly. Max holds his mouth open wide, not daring to let his teeth even scrape against Joe’s cock, and he takes a deep breath as it reaches the back of his mouth. As Max starts to choke, however, Joe’s hand slides away from his head, having gotten his message across but apparently not wanting to force Max further and risk him making a sound. Max pulls back but sees the hand reach for him again, and he carefully takes Joe back into his mouth.  
  
He sucks on him and rubs his tongue along his length, then pulls almost all the way off and licks hard at the head. Joe moans, but quickly conceals it under a cough, and Max takes him back in. He moves his head slowly forward and back, pleasuring the man who owns him with a sick feeling growing in his stomach. Joe’s hand is in his hair again suddenly, and he pulls lightly as his cock nears the back of Max’s mouth, and Max gets the message quickly. He has never taken a man into his throat by his own doing before, but he’s had enough cocks shoved down his throat that he knows what makes it easier on him. He takes a deep breath, wishing he were dead, and tries. Joe isn’t long enough to go very deep into his throat, but he chokes anyway, and a small sound escapes him. Joe’s hand freezes, and Max pulls off quickly, holding his breath and listening for any hint that someone at the table heard, his heart pounding wildly. As if the shame weren’t bad enough already, being discovered in the act by others would make it even worse. The man who is talking continues without interruption, and slowly, fearfully, Max puts his mouth back on Joe’s cock.  
  
Maybe Max isn’t doing a good enough job, or maybe it’s because Joe is distracted, but it takes Max a long time to get Joe off, and with every passing moment Max hates himself more and wishes he had risked running before all this started. With tears running down his face, Max silently stuffs back gags and heaves as he takes Joe in and out quickly, his jaw sore and his tongue working to make Joe feel good and get this over with. He takes him in as deep as he can, part way down his throat, and reaches his tongue to lick low on Joe’s shaft. Joe’s hips start twitching minutely, though he’s trying to keep himself still so he doesn’t give away what is happening under the table. Max sucks on him then swallows him down a little bit deeper, his nose bumping against Joe’s groin, and Joe’s hips twitch again. Max pulls off before he starts to choke, but continues using his tongue in long swipes up Joe’s shaft. Finally Joe’s hand finds Max’s hair again, and Max can tell by the way it shakes and grips that he’s got him close. He puts his all into it, sucking and licking and tightening his lips around Joe until he finally pushes him over the edge. The warlord clears his throat to hide his moan as he starts cumming into Max’s mouth. At first Max freezes in disgust, but as the cum fills his mouth, he swallows it down hurriedly, not wanting to make an obvious mess. He swallows and swallows until Joe has emptied his load, and it’s not until Joe goes soft in his mouth that he dares to pull back and move out from between Joe’s knees.   
  
Max wipes at the spit that had collected on his chin and sits down on the floor, trying not to throw up. He hides his face in his hands and holds back sobs, taking deep breaths and trying to stay silent. He feels filthy and ashamed, and thinks for a moment that it almost would have been better to take punishment than to do what he just did. When he’s controlled himself a bit, he pulls his legs up to his chest, ignoring the pain the position puts on his abused ass, and wraps his arms around his knees, resting his head on them. He closes his eyes and swallows, the taste of cum still on his tongue. He fears Joe will ask for more pleasure. He doesn’t think he can take that again, but knows that if Joe requests it, the fear will overtake him and he will do it. He lets his eyes drift open again and watches Joe hazily, ready to respond to his owner’s demands.


	13. Chapter 13

Max’s mind drifts in and out of alertness despite his attempts to stay watchful, and he reflects on what he just did as he stares unseeing at Joe’s legs under the table. He still feels sick, like he can feel the cum sticking in his throat and sitting in his stomach, and he hates himself for obeying so readily. And for what? An attempt to gain the favor of a man who’s probably just going to rape him again anyway? Max still dreads punishment from Joe, but at the same time, he doesn’t ever want to do what he just did again. He can only hope that Joe will be happy with him now and send him back to his cage.  
  
Max comes back to himself suddenly after a few tugs to his leash, and he realizes that the legs that had surrounded him under the table are all gone. He crawls out to find Joe looking annoyed.  
  
“Clearly you’re going to need more training before I attempt that again.”  
  
Max swallows fearfully at the idea of whatever training Joe has in mind, and the realization that Joe plans to use him like this again, and panic rises in his chest. He can’t. He won’t do this again. He’ll bite next time, anything to get him put out of his misery, even if it means enduring more misery to get there. After what he’d just done, he would rather now resist and be broken than just give in and let himself become this man’s obedient pet.  
  
Panicked, Max reaches for his collar and starts to unbuckle it with shaking, fumbling fingers. He doesn’t stop to think that running will probably fail again. All he knows is he can’t stay. Joe’s eyes light up with anger and he yanks on the leash harshly, pulling Max over before he gets the collar off. He pushes himself up from his chair quickly and slams a foot down on Max’s side. Max grunts in pain, but continues fumbling at his collar. Suddenly the Imperator is there, pinning Max face-down to the floor and pulling his arms behind his back, and Max struggles desperately. He breaks his arms free but isn’t able to get the man off his back, and is soon restrained again, with Joe’s foot in the middle of his back and the Imperator putting his full weight into pinning Max’s arms. The Imperator pulls the leash taut and wraps it several times around Max’s wrists, nearly cutting off his air. He pulls him up and turns him toward Joe, who backhands Max across the face, anger still in his eyes. Max leaves his head lolled to the side where Joe’s strike had snapped it, and keeps his eyes down. He knows this isn’t going to end well for him, but he’s lost in between not wanting to antagonize Joe further, and wanting to do anything in his power to get the hell out of this situation.  
  
He opts for the latter when the Imperator starts to drag him out of the room, following Joe. When faced with Joe, Max is terrified, but as soon as his back is turned, Max can only think about escaping. The Imperator has to wrestle Max to the floor twice on the way to Joe’s rooms, but they get him there anyway, and he can tell Joe is annoyed by the time the Imperator throws Max to the floor inside and closes the door behind them.  
  
“You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Joe growls, putting a foot on Max’s leg to stop his attempt to get up again.  
  
“He’s just a stupid animal.” The Imperator spits and kicks Max in the side. “Can’t teach him anything.”  
  
“Oh, I think he’ll learn,” Joe responds. “With time.”  
  
Max shakes his head, struggling again.  
  
Joe presses his foot down harder on Max’s leg. “Get him prepared.”  
  
Max fights with everything he has as the Imperator pins him and starts untying his arms. He kicks and bucks and yells, until the Imperator lets out a frustrated growl and slams Max’s head into the floor below him. Max is stunned for a moment, and when he shakes it off, the man is trying to pull off his shirt. Max tries to push himself up and throw the Imperator off, but the Imperator just grabs Max’s arms and pulls them out from under him, smashing his face into the floor again. He grips the back of Max’s head and slams it into the floor one more time, and Max goes out.  
  
When he awakes, he’s instantly reminded of the last time he regained consciousness here. It feels the same: he’s naked, face-down on the bed, except this time only his ankles are shackled to the bedposts. His wrists are tied tightly together in front of him, and his head aches in throbbing bursts. He must have been out for a while. It feels like his forehead is split, but it has stopped bleeding, and by the feel of it, has been cleaned up. He pushes himself up onto his knees. His legs are forced open wide, and he shivers. He looks quickly around, but doesn’t see any sign of Joe or the Imperator, and he brings his wrists up in front of him, trying to see if there is any way to get free. It’s just cloth, but the knot is on the underside. He twists his arms and tries to get at it with his teeth anyway, but the sound of footsteps makes him freeze, and he looks warily over his shoulder to see Joe standing in the doorway.  
  
Joe’s eyes drift over Max’s body for a minute. “What is your name?”  
  
Max stares, his eyes wide. He won’t give him that. Never that.  
  
Joe steps forward and repeats the question, but Max turns away and starts pulling at the knot with his teeth again. He tries not to cringe as he hears Joe’s footsteps stomp up to the bed, and a moment later the man grabs a fistful of Max’s hair and yanks his head back away from his wrists. Max grunts.  
  
“Tell me your name,” Joe hisses in his ear.  
  
“William,” Max spits out.  
  
Joe almost lets go of his hair, but stops, staring at him intently, reading him. “You’re lying.”  
  
Max shakes his head.  
  
“Tell me your actual name.”  
  
“It’s Will,” Max repeats, almost a whimper.  
  
“No. I think not.” He shoves suddenly, forcing Max down onto his face, his ass in the air. A finger slides against Max’s hole, and Max tenses, clenching automatically. Joe teases, circling his finger around, then presses in and Max bites his lip to stay quiet. It goes in and in, down to the base, then moves within him, stroking and pressing, and Max quivers.  
  
“You’re going to like this again,” Joe purrs, and Max struggles instantly. Joe shoves him down. “I’m sure you’ll tell me your name when you’re screaming in pleasure.”  
  
Max makes a terrified noise, and Joe’s finger slips out of him and his hand slides slowly up Max’s back, drifting across the words written in his skin. He lets go of his hold on Max’s hair suddenly and lets him up. Max pushes himself back up and looks warily over his shoulder as Joe moves behind him. There’s a faint sound above him as Joe reaches up and pulls something down, and Max jumps, looking up. Before he can react, Joe is right behind him, close enough that he can feel his body heat against his back. He grabs Max’s bound wrists and hooks a metal hook under the bindings, the rope attached to it slung over one of the supports at the top of Joe’s four-poster bed. Joe pulls the other end of the rope harshly, yanking Max’s arms up above his head. He pulls hard until Max is stretched out, his weight only barely supported by his knees on the bed, and then he leans down to tie it off to the foot of the bed. Max twists and pulls and tries to see if he can reach the rope well enough to unhook his wrists, but can barely move his hands well enough to grip it.  
  
Max is too busy trying to escape his present predicament to notice when Joe walks away and then returns, until he loops a strip of fabric over Max’s head, settling it over his eyes and pulling it tight in back. Max grunts, shakes his head, and tries to struggle, but Joe ties it quickly and then adjusts it over his eyes. The dark fabric blocks out all light, and Max goes still, listening, terrified by not knowing what is coming next. Joe is silent as Max kneels stretched out before him, his body quivering.  
  
“You’re going to be my plaything tonight,” Joe says tauntingly behind him. “But I’ll give you some time to prepare yourself for that. I have something I must attend to first.” He slaps Max on the ass, making him jump with a surprised noise, before he turns and leaves Max blind and alone in the silence of the room.  
  
Max tries to push the blindfold off against his bicep, but it’s tied too tightly and everything remains dark. He tries to get his feet under him, to push himself up and unhook his wrists, but he’s chained too tightly to the bedposts. He stretches and twists and struggles until he’s worn himself out, and then he hangs silently, his head drooping down to his chest.  
  
He doesn’t know how long he’s left there, but every minute of it he listens fearfully for Joe’s return. Images run through is head, nightmares, of what Joe might do to him this time, and he becomes more afraid with each passing minute. By the time he hears the door open again he’s nearly in a panic, knowing that this night will probably be one of the most horrible of his life.  
  
As he hears footsteps approach quietly behind him, Max tenses. He can practically feel Joe’s eyes raking over his naked body, planning what he’s going to do to him, how he’s going to torture him and make him scream. Max’s muscles coil painfully tightly when Joe steps up to the foot of the bed behind him, and he jumps when his hands come to rest on either side of his ribs.  
  
“Are you ready to tell me?”  
  
Max doesn’t even move. Joe’s hands slip away from his skin, and a moment later Max feels him climb onto the bed in front of him. Part of him is grateful that he can’t see Joe’s face, but part of him is absolutely terrified of what he won’t be able to see coming. He swallows nervously and tries to stop himself from shaking.  
  
The first touch is to his side, and Max twitches away from it. Joe’s other hand falls on the other side of Max’s ribs, and both slide down to his hips as Max shudders. He’s naked and exposed and at Joe’s mercy. Max makes a nervous sound in the back of his throat, curls his hands into fists, and tries to prepare himself. Joe’s thumb circles on Max’s hip, and then the hands retreat, and Max waits with his breath held.  
  
Joe touches his stomach, his finger sliding up from Max’s navel slowly, up his chest and neck and to his chin where it drifts away. Max wishes he were somewhere else, wishes his mind could just leave his body to endure the torment without being aware of it, but all he can focus on is the prickle of his skin and Joe’s touches. Fingers pinch Max’s nipple suddenly, and he jumps with a grunt as Joe twists and pulls lightly as the thumb of his other hand presses against Max’s other nipple. He toys with him for a minute, and then his hands leave him again.  
  
He doesn’t know where the next touch will be, and his body is tight all over in anticipation and fear. He whimpers when the next touch is to his thigh, sliding slowly upward. Joe’s fingers brush his cock, and Max tries to pull away again. His heart is pounding by now, and his quick breaths catch in his throat as Joe strokes him. His other hand comes to rest on the side of Max’s face, and Max reacts reflexively, twisting his head to bite at Joe’s hand. He doesn’t think. He reacts out of fear in the moment.  
  
Joe’s hand twists out of Max’s teeth and grips his jaw suddenly, squeezing hard and pulling Max’s face toward him. “You’d bite the hand that feeds you? Do you need another reminder that I own you?” His other hand slides up Max’s body to the brand on his side, and Max flinches. Joe examines it. It’s still fresh enough to be red and inflamed, and he runs his hand over it, earning a small sound of pain from Max. “I think you remember,” Joe says. “But…” He releases Max suddenly and moves off the bed. “I’d be stupid if I didn’t realize it was a successful method.”  
  
Max’s focus zooms in on his hearing as Joe goes over to a fire basin in the other room. Max strains to hear, eventually picking up the sound of the crackle of fire and the clank of metal. It seems an agonizingly long time before he hears Joe’s footsteps reenter the room. Joe stands a moment in the doorway, a metal poker in his hand, glowing red at the tip. Max knows he can’t get out of whatever is coming to him, but he struggles again anyway, twisting and pulling his arms, trying to work his wrists out of their bindings.  
  
Joe climbs back onto the bed in front of Max, and Max shakes in fear, his eyes clenched shut under the blindfold. He feels heat near his face and pulls his head back between his arms.  
  
“You will learn to be obedient, and you will tell me what I want to know.”  
  
Max doesn’t say anything. His name is the only thing he has left of himself. He doesn’t want to give it to Joe, though his determination on that is starting to falter in the face of another branding.  
  
Max has no warning, and screams as Joe lays the hot end of the poker against the underside of his forearm, burning his skin black in seconds. It shoots searing pain through him, the sizzle and smell of burning flesh reaching his senses even through the blinding pain. He takes in a gasping breath of air when Joe finally pulls it away, and he moans in pain. He lets out another short scream as Joe trails the very tip down his chest, burning a narrow line. Max bites his lip to try to keep himself quiet, but only a moment after it has left his skin, Joe places it against the side of his hip and leaves it there, letting Max scream and yell and try uselessly to jerk away.  
  
By the time Joe removes it, its glow has dulled and it sticks to Max’s burned skin. Joe glares at Max as he droops, slack in his bindings, and cries quietly. Joe gets up again with a sigh, going back to the other room to reheat the poker, then returns, but this time climbs on the bed between Max’s feet.  
  
“This is going in your ass,” Joe growls. “And then I’m going to fuck you raw until you tell me.”  
  
Max is horrified by his words. “No, no, please…”  
  
Joe is still for a minute, and then he grips one of Max’s ass cheeks, pulls him open, and Max feels the red-hot tip of the poker come to rest against the cleft of his ass, right at the top, and he screams. The pain shoots up his back, through his sides, blotting out his senses. He struggles, but that only makes it worse. The poker slips, burning a line sideways across his ass, and Joe shoves him forward so he’s stretched against his restrains, leaning his weight against Max’s back until Max stills. Max trembles in terror, and jolts as he feels the poker come to rest against his skin again, and he chokes back another scream, biting his lip hard. Joe tilts it to slide the side down Max’s skin, going slowly closer and closer to his hole. As Max screams again, he can only imagine the agony of having that shoved inside him, much less of Joe fucking him afterward. It gets closer and closer…  
  
“Max!” He blurts out in a terrified wail.  
  
Joe stops. The poker leaves his skin. “What was that?”  
  
“My name. Max,” he cries, just wanting to stop the pain that still burns across his skin, desperate to not let it go any further. He sobs in pain and anger at himself for letting himself be so weak against it. He had tried so hard to get himself past what Joe had done to him last time, but he sees now that he’s still just a broken plaything.  
  
“Max,” Joe purrs, savoring the name. His hand strokes Max’s side. “Good boy.”  
  
Max’s chest shakes with tears. He’s given Joe the most important thing he had, and he knows Joe is still going to take him tonight. He tries to build up his defenses again. He won’t give Joe anything else. He won’t let him turn him into his pet.  
  
Joe tosses the poker to the floor with a clatter before moving off the bed, and Max listens as he removes his clothes. He lets his head droop to his chest again, resigned that he’s going to be raped as quiet sobs shake his body.  
  
When Joe positions himself behind Max again, Max is tense and waiting. The fabric of the blindfold is wet with his tears. He can hear Joe breathing behind him, but he doesn’t touch him, and that just makes Max more tense. The anticipation is almost as bad as he knows the act will be. Finally a hand slides onto the back of his shoulder, and Max twitches at the touch.  
  
“Max, are you ready for me?”  
  
Max cringes. Joe knows he doesn’t want to hear him use his name, and he plans to take full advantage of that. Joe’s fingers slide up Max’s shoulder and curl under his collar. He pulls steadily, lifting Max’s head up from where it droops and back between his arms. Max bites back a whimper as Joe moves in to whisper in his ear.  
  
“If you had told me sooner, this would be less painful for you.” Two fingers slide down the burn on Max’s ass and press into his hole. Max chokes back a whimper as Joe strokes and presses, then adds a third thick finger and sinks them in deep. He enjoys the shaking of Max’s body for a minute, then pulls his fingers out and rubs his hips against him, his hand guiding his cock to rest up against the burned cleft of his ass. His hands move down to Max’s cheeks to open him up, and he rocks his hips to rub his cock up and down the injury. Max groans in pain and pulls his hips forward as much as he can. Joe just moves his hands around Max’s hips, sliding carelessly over the burn there too, and pulls his hips back toward him.  
  
When he gets hard on Max’s pain and his whimpers, one of Joe’s hands leaves Max’s hip to guide his cock again, the head sliding down to fit against his hole. Joe moans as he presses forward. “Max…”  
  
Max sobs as he enters him. Joe pushes in firmly, spreading Max wide again to fuck him deep. The pull of his burned skin and the press of Joe’s groin against it makes Max let out another short scream, followed by a groan of misery as Joe sets up a rhythm, sliding in and out of him at an increasing pace.  
  
As Joe starts to fuck him more forcefully, his hands slide up Max’s body, a couple fingers reaching to trace along the burned line up Max’s chest. Every slap of Joe’s hips against Max’s ass makes him wince painfully, and he balls his hands into fists as his body shudders in pain and anger. He’s angry at being constantly used, angry at himself for being so helpless, and angry at Joe for being such a monster. Joe’s hands wander Max’s body, each touch a new surprise to Max, keeping him tense.  
  
Joe grips Max’s hips again and jerks them backward as he snaps his own forward, penetrating deep, and Max screams again. The lumpy cock fills him up, and Max feels even more violated, even more ruined and degraded than when anybody else rapes him. It doesn’t really matter how violent they get, or how often they have used him, or how much they hurt him, Joe has a power over Max that nobody else holds.  
  
“You’re always so tight, Max,” he moans. Max cringes at every use of his name. Joe thrusts hard into him again. “So deliciously tight.” He presses in deeply and gyrates his hips, making Max twitch and jerk at the sensation. One arm wraps around Max’s ribs while his other hand moves up to grip Max’s throat, just under his jaw. He breathes against the back of Max’s neck, and Max tilts his head up, trying to keep his airway open as Joe starts squeezing slowly. Joe thrusts in short fast beats, his balls slapping between Max’s spread legs, and his grip gets tighter and tighter until Max is gasping for breath.  
  
Max twists his head and pulls hard at his restraints, the rope creaking above him. He needs air, wishes he could tear Joe’s hand away, but it holds its grip until Max’s head is swimming and his body starts to go limp. He hardly even feels Joe fucking into him, his mind focused only on his need for air. He almost passes out, but Joe won’t give him the luxury of losing consciousness through any of this. He finally lets go and Max gasps and coughs, pulling deep breaths into his lungs. He groans as his head clears and full awareness comes back to him, the feeling of Joe inside him coming back to the forefront of his mind.  
  
Joe laughs, amused. “I might just keep you, Max,” he breathes behind him, his thrusts slowing now to long, deep presses.  
  
Max’s breath catches in his throat and he goes still in horror. He thought he had been living a nightmare before, but he fears that being with Joe all the time would make being raped by what seems like half the Citadel and being forced to breed seem easy. He tries to find the words to beg for Joe not to, but his voice is stuck in his throat.  
  
Joe continues. “Since I can’t trust you to behave yourself when my back is turned, I think some extended training might be in order, until you finally learn.”  
  
Max makes a fearful, miserable sound in the back of his throat before he finally finds his voice. “No… Please.” He wants to promise he’ll never bite again, wants to tell Joe he’ll obey, do anything he asks, but he stops himself, remembering that he can’t just let himself become Joe’s loyal pet.  
  
“It all depends on how good you are.”  
  
Max lets his head droop again as Joe’s hands move back to his hips to hold him steady as he fucks harder, grunting every time he forces his length into Max’s ass. Max holds back screams until one especially hard thrust makes him feel like he’s going to tear open and he cries out. Joe repeats the motion, making Max scream again, then again, then again. Max is exhausted and gasping when Joe finally stops, pressed in deep as he pumps his load into him with a moan. He breathes heavily against Max’s skin for a minute, then pulls out and gets up, leaving Max alone on the bed. Max sags in his restraints, panting.  
  
He feels the slow dribble down his thigh of Joe’s cum leaking out of him, and a disgusted shudder creeps up his spine. Joe takes notice, and after stepping around toward the head of the bed, returns behind Max. Max flinches as he grabs one asscheek and pulls him open again, then presses something cold and hard into him. It stretches him then narrows, and Max’s muscle automatically clenches around it. Joe leaves it in him, and wipes his hand up the dribble down his thigh. He reaches around in front of Max and Max smells the cum as Joe brings it close to his face.  
  
“Lick me clean,” Joe orders.  
  
Max keeps his mouth shut.  
  
Joe grabs a fistful of his hair again and pushes his head forward, pressing his hand up against his mouth at the same time. “I said lick.”  
  
Max opens his mouth and bites. He won’t do this. He won’t obey, no matter how bad the repercussions are.  
  
“Ah!” Joe yanks his fingers out of Max’s teeth and twists his head to the side, wiping his hand off quickly on Max’s cheek. “You won’t learn, will you?” He leaves him again, and Max listens as he opens a drawer and rummages through it. Max moves his hips uncomfortably. The plug in him feels strange.  
  
Joe returns but Max has no warning before he releases the rope holding Max’s arms above his head, then quickly grabs his collar and yanks him forcefully back. Max topples over the edge of the bed and hits the floor hard, his legs sliding over the footboard after him until the shackles on his ankles halt them and he lies awkwardly on the floor, his legs sloping up to the edge of the bed and still spread wide. Joe tears the blindfold off his eyes and Max squints even in the dim light of the room. Joe stands over him, his diseased body still naked and rage on his face. In his hand is a short leather whip.  
  
Max has no time to react before Joe swings the whip, striking Max’s side and opening up a gash. Max cries out in pain and another strike immediately follows, cutting his chest right across the burn that runs down it. He pulls his arms up to cover his face, and a couple strikes later the whip slashes through his forearms. Each strike comes in quick succession, Joe swinging with violent rage, and Max screams again and again, with barely time to take in a gasp of breath before the next strike pulls another one out of him. Cuts open up across his arms, chest, stomach, sides, thighs, and dangerously near his groin. He’s only vaguely aware of the sensation of small streams of blood running down his skin and collecting on the floor around him.  
  
When the whip finally stills, he’s left gasping and trembling, still holding his bloodied arms weakly over his face. Joe leaves him for a minute, and Max cringes as his footsteps return. Joe undoes the shackle around one of his ankles and flips Max over by his freed leg. Max tries weakly to push himself up on his arms, wincing as the rough stone floor digs into his wounds, but Joe stamps on his back then steps over Max’s other leg and drops down behind him. He pulls his legs open wide again and Max makes a fearful noise.  
  
“Now show me how much you like having me inside you, Max.”  
  
Joe yanks the plug out of him and slides himself in. Max struggles, but there’s nothing he can do as Joe’s cock enters him again. He’s still soft, but it doesn’t make it any less awful. His finger quickly follows, working its way into him alongside his cock and Max grits his teeth through the pain of the added stretch, then cries out as Joe presses downward and hits his prostate. A shudder goes through his body as Joe presses into it again and again, and he moans as the pleasure builds, but tries to hold himself back from those feelings. He dwells on the misery of the situation, trying to beat back the arousal he knows Joe can pull out of him. He hates feeling this way, hates that his body does this when he doesn’t want it to, hates how much power Joe has over him.  
  
Max is so overstimulated, the pain in his body and ass competing for attention with the pleasure he doesn’t want to be feeling. He focuses on the pain, but Joe presses in hard, and a miserable groan transforms into a cry of pleasure. The sensation shoots through him, and after a few more thrusts, he feels his own cock slowly start to harden, and a sob bursts out of him. He knows that there’s no way he can stop this it unless Joe wills it. But he won’t beg. He will not let himself beg.  
  
Joe fucks him harshly with his cock and his finger, slamming in hard as Max struggles weakly, crying out in both pleasure and pain. The pain holds Max back and draws out his misery. The minutes drag on until Joe relentlessly brings him to his peak and he cums with a drawn-out cry, then collapses on the floor beneath Joe, exhausted and wishing he were dead. He cries silently, only the shaking of his chest giving it away, and he hides his face against his forearms. Joe pulls out of him slowly and stands up.  
  
“Max,” he says, his voice commanding.  
  
Max presses his arms closer to his face.  
  
“Max, look at me.”  
  
Max shakes his head, a small whimper escaping him.  
  
“Look at me and tell me you liked it.”  
  
Max is silent.  
  
“You stupid thing!” Joe yells, and Max cringes. Joe goes for the metal poker he had thrown on the floor earlier, and brings the side of it down hard on Max’s back. Max yells and arches, and Joe swings it again, striking the back of Max’s head.  
  
He beats him mercilessly until Max is curled up on his side, protecting his head with his arms, the one leg still attached to the bed the only limb extended away from his core. He is bruised and even furthered bloodied by the time Joe throws the poker down with a huff and leaves Max, muttering angrily. “Too stupid to train.”  
  
Max goes limp from his curled position only after Joe has dressed and stormed out of the room. He would cry if he had the energy, but just lays there instead, hoping he’ll bleed out before Joe comes back. He can’t take much more of this. He knows that when Joe comes back, it won’t be hard for him to break him again, and this time, Max isn’t sure if there will be any chance for him to be able to recover again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I’m going to wrap this up in a couple chapters unless I get another particularly irresistible prompt, but I do want to do one more Rictus chapter for old times’ sake. Tell me what you want to see.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet again one chapter worth of planning turned into two chapters worth of content, so you lucky bastards get more after this.

Max wakes up to the sound of the door unlocking, and instantly cringes in terror, but the voice that follows makes him pause: Rictus’ voice.  
  
“I heard him screaming. I know it was him.”  
  
“I know, Rictus, I know,” the Organic Mechanic responds. “Your daddy sent me to come get him. Says he needed another lesson.”  
  
“What is he doing with my blood bag?”  
  
“Whatever he wants, I’d say.”  
  
The Organic Mechanic enters the room, Rictus close behind him, and both stop at the sight in front of them. Max lies naked on the floor, surrounded by smears of his own blood, barely conscious and unmoving. Rictus quickly pushes past the Organic Mechanic with a look of dire concern and hurries over to Max’s side. His hands hover, not sure what to do. A sudden touch near one of his wounds makes Max twitch, but that wasn’t the touch of a fingertip, it was more gentle. He opens his eyes slowly and watches a tear slide down the other man’s face and plip against Max’s shoulder.  
  
The Organic Mechanic gets over his initial shock and approaches too. “Whoo, you pissed him off pretty bad, didn’t you?” He leans down and prods at Max’s bruised, bloodied body. Max groans but barely moves. “Damn shame,” he continues. “My best donor, and I’ll barely be able to use him now until he heals up.”  
  
“Will he be okay, Mechanic?” Rictus strokes his hand carefully over Max’s hair, the knuckles of his other hand wiping at the nearly dry tears that have run from the corners of Max’s own eyes.  
  
The Organic Mechanic spreads open one of the gashes in Max’s skin, making Max wince and twitch away weakly.  
  
“These aren’t deep,” he says. “He’ll be out of sorts for a while, but he should recover.”  
  
“Why would Dad do that to him…?” Rictus cradles Max’s head in one hand and caresses any uncut skin he can find with the other.  
  
“Hate to tell you, but your little pet here isn’t exactly well-behaved.” The Organic Mechanic unshackles Max’s ankle and his leg slides limply to the floor. “Help me get him down to my shop. He needs some work.”  
  
Rictus lifts him off the floor, murmuring quiet words when Max whimpers in pain. He doesn’t fight Rictus, but instead pulls his chin and his bound arms close to his chest as Rictus walks, and just feels relieved that he’s being taken out of Joe’s rooms. He knows he’ll never be safe from Joe, but not being chained and waiting for Joe to just walk back in and take him again lifts a huge weight off him.  
  
Rictus’ gentle hold on Max tightens and he watches him carefully as he follows the Organic Mechanic over the bridge between the towers. Max’s eyes go to the drop below him, but he’s barely aware of where he is, nor does he have the strength to try anything. He remains still in Rictus’ arms, just trying to keep the nightmare images of the last few hours at bay.  
  
Max can feel the hungry eyes of the Warboys on him as they go through the infirmary, and he curls up a little, knowing that with how beaten and bloodied he is, it’s obvious that nobody but Joe would have been allowed to do it to him. He doesn’t want to think about all those cocks in him again, pounding his body as if they might be able to get some divine power out of him. He lays limp as Rictus places him on the cold exam table in the Organic Mechanic’s surgery, and squeezes his eyes shut but doesn’t try to jerk away as the larger man strokes his brow.  
  
The Organic Mechanic tosses aside the wad of Max’s clothing that he had picked up in Joe’s rooms. He gathers some supplies then approaches, drooling and grinning, and starts prodding at cuts and bruises with one hand as the other wipes a damp cloth across the smears of blood. He gives Max a thorough exam, though under Rictus’ watchful eye, Max knows he’s not being as handsy as he normally would be. He checks for broken bones, cleans each cut with the rough cloth, gives Max’s abused hole only a cursory feel for damage, and his fingers just barely ghost over Max’s cock. Rictus watches with a quiet curiosity and concern.  
  
“Could be worse, all things considered. Just some R n’ R and a bit of time to pump up that blood supply, and I think he’ll be back to himself.” He laughs a little. “For better or worse.” He sits down with a needle and quickly starts to stitch some of the larger gashes closed, motioning for Rictus to hold Max down as he tries to pull away from the pain.  
  
He wipes his hands when he’s done. “That should do it. There aren’t enough bandages in the world to waste on this fucker, but here, just tie his hands behind his back. I don’t want him scratching these sutures out.”  
  
Rictus does as he’s told, and then Max is left lying on his side, panting through the pain and trying to put his mind elsewhere. Rictus touches his shoulder carefully, and Max wants to jerk away from his touch.  
  
“I’ll take care of him,” Rictus tells the Organic Mechanic, and reaches down to slide an arm under Max.  
  
“He really should be in my infirmary where I can watch him, Rictus.”  
  
“No, I’m taking care of him,” he responds firmly. He lifts Max upright and wipes his hair back from his brow.  
  
The Organic Mechanic groans faintly in annoyance, but doesn’t try to argue. “Fine, but bring him back once a day for a checkup.” He doesn’t want to see Max go underfed and dehydrated again. “Or if anything goes wrong.”  
  
Rictus lifts Max off the table, and the Organic Mechanic tosses Max’s clothes onto his stomach as Rictus walks by, making Max flinch.  
  
“Oh, here, the Warboys keep this around but haven’t been using it lately. You might like it.” The Organic Mechanic tosses the makeshift spider gag on top of Max’s clothing. “Your daddy tells me he’s still a biter.”  
  
Rictus looks like he wants to say something, his shoulders tightening with anger, but he sets his jaw, looks at the gag, and turns out of the room.  
  
Max must have lost consciousness along the way, because the next thing he knows Rictus is laying him carefully on his bed. A brief panic passes through Max, but Rictus hushes him, laying a hand on his forehead until Max lies still again. As Rictus steps away to put Max’s clothing aside, Max rolls slowly off his damaged forearms and settles onto his side. In his mind, he can still feel Joe inside of him, pounding into his ass violently as gashes open up across his body, and he pulls his knees in close and curls up around them, fighting to hold back sobs.  
  
Rictus steps around the side of the bed and kneels beside it, looking in Max’s face and stroking his hair. Max doesn’t look at him, nor does he respond as Rictus quietly tells him that everything’s okay, and he’s going to take good care of him.  
  
Rictus sits silently for a while, watching as Max slowly stuffs down his terror, panic and pain and settles into a deadened quiet. His mind starts to drift away from him, his eyes staring but not seeing, until Rictus speaks.  
  
“What did he do to you?” He asks quietly.  
  
Max’s eyes shift vaguely toward Rictus, but he doesn’t answer.  
  
“You were naked and chained to his bed… Did he…?”  
  
Max closes his eyes suddenly, his brow crumpling at the memory. He doesn’t want to remember.  
  
“I thought you were mine,” Rictus murmurs, sounding hurt and a little like it’s Max’s fault. “I thought we were bonded…” Max just keeps his eyes clenched shut, and Rictus’ large hand is suddenly around Max’s throat. “He wasn’t supposed to be able to take that away from us!”  
  
The memories Max had been trying to hold back come flooding into him and his eyes open wide in panic. He remembers the feel of Joe’s hand around his neck as his cock slid in and out of him freely. He remembers it squeezing just as Rictus is doing now. The rest of the memories follow in a rush, and Max tries to jerk away, but Rictus has him too tightly. Max chokes on a sob, and after a moment, Rictus’ hand pulls away.  
  
Rictus is at odds. He likes his blood bag, but he’s hurt that their bonding had meant nothing and that his father, of all people, had still been able to take him and use him. He has a hard time believing that his dad would just do that, especially since he knew Max was Rictus’ favorite. His father loves him, he wouldn’t hurt Rictus like that, would he? Was it the blood bag’s fault? Maybe he had done something wrong to deserve Joe’s punishment. Rictus doesn’t know where to place the blame.  
  
Rictus pets the side of Max’s head as the beaten man shakes. “He hurt you so bad…” Rictus doesn’t know if he should be mad at his father or at Max, but he decides in the mean time that Max is the one who needs his immediate attention. He eventually climbs onto the bed and over Max and lays himself out behind him.  
  
Max tenses, his lungs stuttering on a fearful inhale. It’s only his front that was cut up by the whip, but his back is bruised and aching from the beating he received afterward, and he flinches as Rictus wiggles closer. Rictus moves his arm under Max’s head and pulls his legs up to curve himself around Max’s curled body. He finds a bit of undamaged skin at Max’s hip and strokes it gently. Max squeezes his eyes shut and curls up a little tighter.  
  
He keeps his body tense until he barely has the energy to hold it anymore. Rictus’ hand continues to stroke his hip for a while, and Max slowly lets his muscles loosen, out of exhaustion more than choice, his head coming down to rest on the other man’s bicep, his body uncurling slightly. Everything hurts, and he can’t seem to stop the nightmare images that swirl in his head. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Rictus hushes him quietly and his hand moves up to rest on Max’s shoulder. He rocks him slightly, and Max lets himself shake with the tears until he’s out of energy and drifts into sleep.  
  
He awakes to nightmares a couple times, and each time Rictus pulls him close and tries to soothe him. Max shudders slightly and tries to go back to sleep. The nightmares are only slightly worse than what goes through his head when he’s awake, and at least when he’s asleep, he doesn’t have to be aware of the physical pain and the arms around him.  
  
He awakes the third time to what he thinks is a nightmare, but realizes after a minute that it’s not in his head. Rictus is hard against him, his hips twitching slightly as he half-moans against the back of Max’s head. Max holds himself still, barely daring to breathe. He’s pretty sure Rictus is still asleep, and he doesn’t want him to wake up now.  
  
Of course Max wouldn’t be so lucky. Rictus shifts slightly, and then he hums and his hands move against Max’s body. Max closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Rictus presses his hips against Max’s ass, then pulls them back and his hand slides down to fumble at his trousers.  
  
Max hopes he’s just going to jerk himself off, but after a moment Rictus’ hand slides back up to Max’s hip and Max feels his hot member against his ass. Terror crawls its way though Max’s gut.  
  
“No, no,” Max says hoarsely, trying to squirm away with dread creeping up his throat. He can’t take any more. It’s going to break him.  
  
“I can be gentle,” Rictus tries to soothe, tugging at Max’s hip as he presses a little closer. A long, low whine escapes Max as Rictus moves his hips slowly, his cockhead blindly seeking Max’s entrance. Max tries again to get away, straightening his legs out and pushing against Rictus, wincing as the motion tugs at his stitches and cuts. Rictus holds him with a firm hand, the arm under Max’s head bending upward to cross Max’s chest and his other hand gripping at Max’s hip. He pushes his hips forward again, finding Max's ass as he hums encouragingly behind him. Max shakes his head and tries to roll away, but Rictus holds tight, and he’s too weak to put up much of a fight. His arms are pressed between himself and Rictus, and he tries to move them, but the bonds Rictus had tied are painfully tight.  
  
Rictus spits in his hand, reaches down toward his cock briefly, then presses forward again and slides wetly between Max’s cheeks. Max closes his eyes and tries to breathe, but his breath comes out as a whimper as Rictus comes to rest against his hole. His body shakes as he waits to be raped again.  
  
Slowly and carefully, Rictus penetrates him, kissing the top of Max’s head as he cries out at the inevitable pain. “Shh, shh,” Rictus murmurs as he presses deeper, then pauses to let Max breathe before pressing in a little more. “Don’t want to hurt you…”  
  
It takes an agonizing minute of stops and starts before Rictus is in, their bodies pressed close as he rolls his hips, his huge cock deep inside Max. Max can’t stand the feeling. He can handle the constant pain of being stretched around Rictus, but he hates the feeling of being so thoroughly invaded. He cries quietly in pain and helplessness, and Rictus strokes his shoulder, moaning quietly behind him.  
  
“You’re okay. It’s okay.”  
  
Max squirms but falls still again, panting. Too much pain, his body is too weak. He has no choice but to lay there and let Rictus rape him. Inside, though, he’s a wild sandstorm of terror and panic whipping around. Images of his times with Joe, images of abuse at the hands of the Organic Mechanic, images of the countless times Rictus has raped him, the stream of gangbangs at the hands of Warboys… They all flood through him, almost numbing his body.  
  
“You’re so good,” Rictus continues murmuring. He pulls part way out and presses slowly in again. Max shudders and moans in misery.  
  
Very carefully, Rictus fucks Max, trying not to jostle him or bump into his bruises too much. He slides slowly in and out, in and out, and Max lies limp and powerless in front of him, accepting the treatment as quietly as he can. It’s a long, slow process, and Max wishes Rictus would just pound into him if it meant getting it over with quickly.  
  
Eventually Max can no longer breathe through the pain and panic, ragged, gasping, raspy breaths, and Rictus presses in deep and stops. He breathes against Max’s hair deeply and strokes his arm until Max has calmed slightly and is breathing somewhat normally again, then Rictus slides his hips slowly backward, and Max whines quietly, his body tensing and curling in preparation for more. He can’t hold the tension, though, his weakened body going lax again after only a minute, and Rictus continues to use him freely, occasionally whispering encouraging words into Max’s ear.  
  
Rictus works his way slowly to his orgasm, petting Max’s skin softly as he moves in and out of his body. He moans low and quiet behind Max as his cock pulses within him, filling him with warm cum, then he pulls slowly out as he softens and rolls back, breathing heavily. Max hiccups silently with tears as he curls up again, bending his head down to meet his knees.  
  
Rictus gets up to get a blanket that he arranges carefully over Max and himself. Night had fallen sometime in the last few hours, and it has gotten cold, and now both are sweat-slicked. The smell of Rictus overwhelms Max as the blanket drapes over his head, and then he has Rictus’ arms around him again, and he takes in a gasp, feeling too enclosed, too trapped. He fights with what limited strength he has, kicking and writhing, but Rictus just holds him tighter with quiet murmurs, forcing him still. Max pushes his head above the edge of the blanket and tries to breathe. Rictus kisses the top of Max’s head and then snuggles closer, tucking Max under his chin. It’s hard for Max to miss the feeling of his huge cock resting against his ass, but at least he has tucked it back inside his trousers, and that helps keep the panic down a little bit.  
  
Max doesn’t think he’s going to be able to sleep any more tonight, but as Rictus holds him tight, the exhaustion drags him down again and soon he’s out in a fitful, nightmarish rest.  
  
Rictus fusses over Max most of the next day. He lets him sleep as much as he can, soothing him when he wakes up from nightmares, and when Max can’t sleep any longer, he feeds him and gives him water in small sips at a time. Max refuses the food at first. He doesn’t have the stomach for it, but Rictus determinedly force-feeds him until Max doesn’t have it in him to fight over it any longer, and takes the bites placed into his mouth, chewing slowly.  
  
That afternoon, Rictus stands over Max, watching him quietly. His blood bag has drifted off again, dead to the world, his eyes staring dully but his mind not there. He brings him back slowly with soft touches to his hair and face, and doesn’t speak until Max’s eyes are finally focused.  
  
“I want to try something,” Rictus murmurs gently. “It won’t hurt you. But you have to promise not to bite.”  
  
Max swallows thickly and looks up at Rictus fearfully. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, and he feels sick just thinking about taking another cock into his mouth. He clamps his teeth shut with a click and closes his eyes, wishing this would all just go away. Rictus slides his hand down the side of Max’s face, and his thumb runs across Max’s lips. Max quivers and closes his eyes tighter.  
  
“Please?” Rictus asks, pressing his thumb between Max’s lips and against his clamped teeth. Max shakes his head in a jerky motion.  
  
“You’ll like it,” Rictus insists. “It’ll feel good.”  
  
Max shakes his head again, and Rictus presses further, testing, sliding his thumb into Max’s mouth along the side of his teeth. Max snaps his teeth suddenly, not ready for even this small invasion of his body, and bites down hard on Rictus’ finger. Rictus doesn’t react in pain so much as in disappointment. Max’s teeth grind into his thumb, and Rictus sighs. He presses his other thumb and forefinger into Max’s mouth, carefully prying his teeth open to free his bitten thumb. Max’s teeth clamp shut again as soon as Rictus pulls his fingers out. His eyes remain crumpled shut.  
  
Rictus watches Max sadly for a minute, and then his look hardens as he comes to a decision. He sets to work restraining Max, determined to get what he wants even if his blood bag won’t give it to him. He puts a simple collar around Max’s neck, holding him down for a minute as another wave of panic passes through Max and he struggles to get free. When he falls still again, his breath tight and gasping, Rictus moves him into the middle of the bed and ties a length of rope to the side of his collar. He slides the rest under the bed, up the other side, and pulls it tight before tying it to the other side of Max’s collar.  
  
Max looks around desperately, pulling at the restraint around his neck, but with his arms still tied behind his back, he can’t do much.  
  
Rictus gives him a long look, then asks again. “Are you sure?”  
  
Max clamps his mouth shut again and glares.  
  
“I want you to enjoy this…” Rictus says almost pleadingly, but Max is lying still, now staring straight up at the ceiling and giving no sign that he’s going to change his mind about biting.  
  
Rictus sighs and steps away, toward where he had placed Max’s clothing yesterday. He comes back, holding the spider gag and looking at it somewhat regretfully. Max has barely realized what he has in his hand before he’s on the bed, straddling Max’s chest and forcing his mouth open. Max fights back, biting Rictus’ fingers and snapping his teeth shut again when Rictus fails to get the gag into his mouth, but Rictus tries again determinedly. He catches the ring on Max’s bottom teeth and pushes hard, forcing Max’s mouth open, and quickly shoves the rest of the ring in. He plants his hand over Max’s mouth, pushing it hard into his face to keep Max from spitting the gag out again as he fumbles with the straps.  
  
Max feels suffocated with the large hand covering his mouth and nose. His panic grows and he thrashes, shaking his head back and forth, but Rictus pulls hard on one strap, forcing his head still, then slides his hand to the other and wraps them around the back of Max’s head, nearly choking him with the collar as he reaches behind his head to buckle them. Finally he lets up, the gag secured tightly in Max’s mouth. Max bites at the ring, straining against it, his breaths quick and gasping in his fear. Rictus looks down at him, his expression unreadable for the mix of emotions in it, then climbs off Max’s chest and strips himself quickly.  
  
He climbs back onto the bed carefully and kneels above Max’s head. Max looks up at him in horror, his eyes pleading for some sympathy. Rictus’ cock is already half hard in anticipation, and he leans down above Max, coming face to face with him. He hooks one hand under Max’s chin and holds him still as he kisses Max’s bottom lip softly, then licks along it and sucks it into his mouth. His thumb ventures up and rubs up and down one of the pieces of metal curving out from Max’s mouth and digging in to his skin, and then Rictus moves back, his hand sliding away from Max’s jaw.  
  
He crawls forward on his hands, dropping to one elbow when he reaches Max’s crotch. Max squeezes his eyes shut as Rictus lowers his hips, his cock bobbing in front of Max’s face.  
  
Max tries to curl up and turn his body, but Rictus grips his thighs and pushes his legs down, spreading them as his head dips down and he licks along the length of Max’s cock. Max goes very still, his breath in his throat as Rictus runs a finger across sensitive skin, then lifts his member and puts the head in his mouth. His tongue ventures all around, exploring the shape of Max’s cockhead, feeling every surface and fold of skin. He rests his weight on his elbow, still gripping Max at his base, and his other hand slides blindly up Max’s body toward his face, just barely skimming over injured flesh.  
  
Max jerks his head from side to side, trying to escape the inevitable as Rictus takes himself in hand and guides his cock to Max’s mouth. Rictus pulls his hips back a bit, then catches Max’s jaw and holds him tightly as he lowers himself back down.  
  
The ring on the gag is barely big enough for Rictus to fit into, and he stops briefly with his cockhead resting against it. He’s fully hard now, and Max hopes for a moment that he’s not going to fit and maybe this can just end here, but he slides in slowly, working himself through the ring bit by gradual bit. Max presses his tongue down, trying to avoid touching and tasting Rictus for as long as he can, but soon the thick head of Rictus’ cock slides through and fills Max’s mouth, and the taste of precum spreads across Max’s tongue. Rictus stops there, maybe expecting something, but Max stays perfectly still, until Rictus sucks on Max suddenly, licking hard across his head at the same time, and a tiny moan escapes Max. Rictus does it again, then pushes farther into Max’s mouth. Max tries to block his throat off with the back of his tongue, but Rictus pushes down and down, working more of himself into Max’s mouth until Max gags and his throat opens enough to let Rictus fill his whole mouth.  
  
Max is breathing deep breaths through his nose, trying to keep from gagging again, and simultaneously failing to keep himself quiet as Rictus takes Max into his mouth and tries to swallow him down. His fingers slip from the base of Max’s cock as he finally succeeds, and his tongue reaches out to lick Max at his root, dragging a moan out of Max. His throat spasms around Max after a moment, and he pulls off with a gag, but Max can’t stop his hips from twitching in response. Rictus takes Max back in, not deeply, but enough to suck on most of his length, and lowers his own hips a little more, pressing now against the back of Max’s throat. He presses gradually harder and harder as he works his mouth around Max’s cock, sliding up and down, rubbing his spit-slicked base with a firm grip as his tongue massages around his head again, and Max chokes suddenly, his throat clamping shut before opening enough for Rictus to force his way in. His long cock slides deeper, bulging Max’s throat against the tight collar, until he’s down to his base and his balls are pressing up against Max’s nose. He continues to hold tightly onto Max’s jaw as Max chokes and gags around him. Rictus bounces his hips in short little thrusts, moaning in pleasure around Max’s cock.  
  
He pulls off of Max’s cock with a soft pop, then presses deeply into Max’s throat and holds himself there for a moment before pulling back to Max’s mouth. Max takes in a gasp of breath and immediately lets it out in a cough, his mouth opening wide in a useless attempt to force the gag out from between his teeth. Rictus bobs his hips again, his cock sliding in and out of Max’s mouth, bouncing lightly against the back of his throat, and he focuses his attention back on Max’s cock. As he rains attention on it, licking along its length and then putting it back in his mouth, sucking hard and circling his tongue around the head, he restricts himself to Max’s mouth. He wants to be deep in his throat, but also wants to try to remain conscious of how his blood bag is taking this.  
  
He deepthroats Max again, pulling a little moan out of him, and rotates his head back and forth slowly, running his tongue around Max’s shaft until Max’s hips jerk upward unintentionally. With a little smile, he pulls off, breathes, and tries again, scraping his teeth lightly across Max’s skin.  
  
He’s on his third attempt when Max finally grows hard with a groan, his body arching below Rictus before falling slack again. Max’s breaths are quickening, both from his body’s arousal and from his own growing terror. He doesn’t want to do this again. Why do they always try to pull pleasure out of him? Can’t they just fuck him and let him hate it as he should, rather than making him feel torn apart as his mind screams against it but his body aches for more? He wants to beg Rictus to stop, but his mouth is still full of cock, and his weak writhing seems to only encourage the other man.  
  
Rictus sucks on his now-hard cock, running a finger softly up and down the underside, treasuring each moan Max makes, loving the way they sound and the feel of them around his cock. He takes Max in deep and at the same time presses his hips down hard until his cock slides back into Max’s throat too. He rocks his hips to rub his cock within Max, and Max chokes and tries to tilt his head up to straighten out his throat as Rictus grows even harder. He can’t breathe with the cock down his throat and balls pressed against his nose, though his body wants to gasp and moan at the way Rictus is working at his erection. He starts to writhe after a minute, and Rictus lets up, pulling back from his throat. He gives Max time to breathe, then starts moving his hips in long thrusts, sliding in and out of his throat slowly. Max resorts just to trying to just let it happen as smoothly as possible, relaxing his throat to keep it from spasming painfully every time Rictus presses into him, and he breathes between thrusts, moaning as Rictus works his arousal higher, licks and sucks and rubs until Max can feel the warmth building in his stomach.  
  
His eyes are clenched shut tight and his teeth straining against the gag as he takes the forced treatment, and he chokes, gags, and moans around the cock in his throat, but at the same time, his hips start to twitch with need as Rictus pulls off and teases him with light touches of his tongue. But for every bit Rictus pushes him forward, Max is pushed back again by the cock forcing its way down his throat.  
  
Rictus starts going faster, breathing heavily against Max’s wet skin. He moans and kisses the side of Max’s cock, and with a few especially hard thrusts, cums fast and hot. Most is fed straight down his throat again, but as the last traces of orgasm shake Rictus’ body, he stutters to a stop outside of Max’s throat, and the last of the stream ends up in his mouth. Max nearly inhales it as it wells up around Rictus’ thick shaft and dribbles down the side of Max’s face. Rictus settles there, panting heavily for a minute before he turns his attention back on Max.  
  
He runs the tip of his tongue carefully around under the head of Max’s cock, his fingers pressing lightly into the hot skin, all of it lighting up Max’s nerves and bringing another moan out of him. Rictus licks up his length and easily slides him in, sucking at him as the light scrape of his teeth sends shivers up Max’s body. Max wants to scream in rage and frustration, but can only moan and twitch and jerk as Rictus pulls him onward, working his cock determinedly until Max releases with a heavy groan, the vibration around Rictus’ cock sending a shiver through the larger man’s body. Rictus pulls off and lets Max cum down his own length, rubbing the slippery fluid across his skin to carry him through his orgasm until Max is only shivering with the aftershocks, his lungs heaving.  
  
Finally Rictus slides himself out of Max’s mouth and releases his jaw. He crawls back and sits against the head of the bed, looking Max over from his softening cock to his sweat-slicked body, to Rictus’ own seed slowly running down his cheek as he tries to force it out of his mouth. He leans forward and kisses Max’s temple, then frees him from the gag, pulling it carefully out of his mouth.  
  
Max’s jaw aches. He can barely close it, but he turns his head and spits out the rest of the cum onto the bed and pants in the aftermath of his rape. He keeps his eyes closed, and gradually his mind leaves his abused body behind as it fades out, until he’s not even aware as Rictus moves to lie beside him, tangling his legs with Max’s in an attempt to be close without actually touching any of the injuries across the rest of Max’s body. He turns Max’s head toward him, kisses his mouth gently, lays his head down, and drifts to sleep with their breaths mingling.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The Organic Mechanic is a bit nasty again. Also sorry to those of you who didn’t want to see Rictus be mean. It’s got to happen.

Rictus feeds Max well, makes sure he gets plenty of water, and takes him, as promised, to the Organic Mechanic for a checkup each day. Most of them are quick, the Organic Mechanic just making sure Max is being cared for and hasn’t torn any of his injuries open, but Max can tell the man wants to toy with him, and he’s actually glad Rictus sticks around for the exams, especially when the Organic Mechanic tries to talk him into leaving Max there for some longer “tests.”   
  
“Your dad was looking for him,” the Organic Mechanic tells Rictus during Max’s fourth checkup. Max’s breath catches in his throat. “Wanted to see if he needed another round of training.” The man laughs.  
  
Even Rictus goes tense at that. Max closes his eyes and tries to focus on the Organic Mechanic’s fingers trailing across his body under his clothes. It makes his skin crawl, but it’s better than the memories of Joe that are trying to bubble back up.  
  
“He’s fine,” Rictus says, and hurries the exam along so he can take Max away again.  
  
“I’m going to hide you,” he tells Max quietly as he leads him away from the infirmary. Max stumbles along beside him, barely able to walk from the soreness and pain still permeating his body.   
  
Rictus takes Max on an unfamiliar path, becoming more and more careful of avoiding other people as he goes. Finally he unlocks a door into a completely black room, and hurries the both of them in before he even tries to light it. Still holding Max by the back of his shirt, he fumbles around with his other hand until he finds a switch mounted on the wall, and clicks on the bare lightbulb that lights the place.  
  
It’s a simple living quarters, apparently unused for quite a while judging on the musty smell, with little more than a small bed in it. Rictus pushes Max over to the bed, then carefully down onto it.  
  
“You’ll be safe here.” He tells him quietly. “You have to stay.” He rolls Max onto his side and adjusts the rope tying his hands behind his back, unwrapping some of its length, then sitting Max up against the headboard and tying the end of the rope to it. “I’ll be back soon.”  
  
Max stares at the door after Rictus closes it behind him. He’s practically handed him an escape. He hears the lock click shut from the outside, but even that shouldn’t be an obstacle. He turns quickly to try to see what kind of knot Rictus has tied him in place with, but pauses, his brain catching up to his instinctual responses. He can barely walk right now, much less run. He’s sore inside and out from Rictus’ latest ruts with him, and though the deep pains of the bruises from Joe’s beating have started to retreat, his injuries from the whipping and hot poker ache with every movement. The burn down the cleft of his ass is a near constant agony, and each step he takes shoots the pain up his spine.   
  
And, he reminds himself, he doesn’t know how long Rictus will be gone. He might come back in the middle of Max trying to escape. Might even see him in the passageway on his way back, and then it would end right there. Is he willing to risk an escape when his chances of evading recapture are so small? It helps that he wouldn’t necessarily have to find his way out of the Citadel, that if faced with the option, he would take a plunge off a bridge instead, anything to stop the horror his life has become. But he doesn’t know where he is, wouldn’t know where to go, and would probably run into somebody out there before he got anywhere. He doubts his ability to outrun or fight off anybody he encountered right now.  
  
He forces a slow breath out through his nose as he leans carefully back against the headboard again, his eyes closed. It’s promising that Rictus was willing to leave him here so lightly restrained in the first place. Maybe he can lull him into a false sense of security. Maybe his chances will improve later, if only he can put up with this a little longer, endure whatever Rictus has in store for him until he feels a little stronger, he can maybe manage to run without the pain biting at his every movement.  
  
The thought of staying put long enough to let Rictus fuck him again is enough to make him fumble for the knot again, but he shakes his head and forces himself still. If he’s caught trying to escape now, Rictus will never let him have another chance.  
  
He loses track of time and can’t tell if he could have escaped before Rictus comes back, but the man returns fairly quickly, so Max tries to comfort himself that it was the right decision to stay, what little comfort there is in that decision. He watches Rictus silently as he slips in the door and closes it quickly behind him, an armload of things pressed against his chest. Max stares with a creeping sense of horror as Rictus drops the pile on the foot of the bed and Max sees a collar with an attached chain. He’s made a mistake. He should have run after all. Rictus approaches, looking pleased to see Max right where he left him, and Max closes his eyes and tries not to jerk his head away as the man smooths his hand down the side of Max’s face.  
  
“Good, Blood Bag,” Rictus whispers to him. He reaches for the collar, and Max flinches back. He can’t beg for Rictus not to use it, that would give away his intentions, so he just forces himself still again with a weight growing in his gut as Rictus closes the collar around his neck and attaches the end of the long chain to one of the bars of the headboard. he tries to remind himself that at least he’s hidden from Joe here. At least Rictus is giving him some amount of safety. Rictus strokes his face again after he’s finished locking Max in place, making Max jump, then he goes to untie the tether on his wrists, though he leaves them bound behind his back.  
  
When Rictus steps back and starts arranging the other items about the room, Max watches him warily and inches his body down on the bed, grimacing as the movement shoots pain through his ass. He curls up on his side and follows Rictus around the room with his eyes. Rictus sets what looks like a parcel of food and bottle of water on a small table in the corner, comes back and drapes a blanket over Max, sets a clean bedpan on the floor, and then gathers up a small array of belts, a few cloths, a rope, and the open-mouthed gag, and sets them under the bed. Max swallows and closes his eyes, regretting now even more that he hadn’t run earlier. With one final stroke to Max’s face and a murmur to stay quiet, Rictus leaves him alone. Max curls up tighter and tries not to think about the objects on the floor below him.  
  
Rictus comes in a couple times a day to take care of Max. He takes him down to the Organic Mechanic every other day, then only every few days. Max can tell that the Organic Mechanic wants to protest, but Rictus is keeping Max well cared-for, so he doesn’t end up saying anything. It’s probably not worth the effort to fight with Rictus over this.   
  
Max rests as much as he can, but gets up to pace around the room, exercise his muscles, and test his level of pain several times a day. The chain Rictus had put him on is long enough that he can explore most of the small room. He slowly regains his strength, his wounds slowly heal, and the pain slowly lessens. The burns, he knows from his previous brandings, are going to take far too long to heal, so he just tries to get used to the pain of those.  
  
Rictus comes to fuck him only once in the following several days. Max can’t help but fight him over it, but Rictus easily pins him to the bed, slides down his trousers, lubricates, and enters him, holding his hand firmly over Max’s mouth to muffle his screams.  
  
“Shh, shh, somebody will hear you.” His hips pump in a steady rhythm, and he pleasures himself with quiet moans until Max is silent and simply lies beneath the larger man, tears streaming down his face as he takes it. He hates being so powerless.  
  
Rictus cums with a moan against the back of Max’s head, then pulls himself out before he releases his hold over Max’s mouth. Max lies limp on the bed, his body only shaking now and then in soft tremors. He’ll be set back a couple days now. He’s always amazed at Rictus’ size. He knows he’s huge, and knows it hurts every time, but it’s like he’s somehow not capable of remembering just how big, just how much it hurts, and just how sore he always is afterward. He would have thought he’d be adjusted to it by now, with how many times Rictus has taken him. But as the familiar ache sets into his now loose hole, he knows he’ll barely be able to move without pain for at least a day. Rictus slides his trousers carefully back up and pets his head before he turns and leaves.  
  
When the Organic Mechanic finally takes out Max’s stitches, Rictus lets Max have his arms unbound. Max gives himself a couple more days, exercising his arms and legs with fervor, but the fear that Rictus will want to rape him again soon becomes too much. He decides to move.  
  
Max can only guess at night and day anymore. He loses track of time so easily without a window in his room, but Rictus often turns the light out and tells him goodnight for the evening, so he just has to hope that that’s the right time. He waits until after Rictus spends an uncomfortable amount of time with him, his fear growing by the minute that Rictus is going to strip him naked and force himself on him again. The man doesn’t, however, and Max gives it a couple hours after he shuts off the light and leaves before he decides it’s safe.  
  
He had already examined his restraints days ago. There is no way out of the collar, but the headboard is old and wobbly, the poles a cheap metal, and the chain is only wrapped around one of the poles in the middle. He fumbles in the dark, braces one hand against the top railing, and tries to push it up as he pulls at the post he is chained to. He puts more and more muscle into it, the bars slowly bending, until it snaps loose and he falls back on the bed, biting back a yell as the top of the post cuts his arm open.  
  
He stumbles across the room and hits the light switch, then fishes under the bed, finding a length of cloth Rictus had stored there. It was probably a blindfold, which Max is very glad he didn’t use. After Joe, he doesn’t think he would be able to handle it. He ties it tightly around his bleeding arm. It won’t do to leave a trail. Shaking with anticipation, he coils the long chain in his hand and approaches the door. He takes a deep breath, flips back the lock, and pokes his head out. The hallway is empty and quiet. Max runs for it.  
  
He doesn’t know where he’s going. He knows by now the way to get to the Organic Mechanic’s infirmary, but that is the last place he wants to go. He picks a random direction and hurries quietly down the passageway.  
  
He picks the wrong direction. He had avoided the occasional voice or footsteps several times already, though mostly it is quiet. People are sleeping. He’d been free for maybe 20 or 30 minutes, but there are so many passageways and turns and rooms that he doesn’t know where he’s going. He doesn’t know whether he’s up or down anymore, doesn’t even know how to retrace his steps and try a different route. It’s not much longer before he stumbles into a large, deceptively quiet room and finds himself faced with a group of Warboys. Most are asleep, but one is sitting on the edge of his bunk, settling down and scratching at the back of his neck tiredly. Max freezes, but the Warboy is already looking up, having spotted his motion in the dim light. Max sees him assess the collar on his neck and the chain in his hand, and he knows there’s no way to even pretend he’s not an escaped slave. He backs up slowly, then turns and runs.  
  
“Hey!” There are footsteps behind him, running, and Max bites back the pain and runs harder. More voices, more footsteps. Other Warboys have woken up. He’s not fast enough. The first one overtakes him and tackles him to the ground, and he fights with everything he has, but as more appear and restrain him, he knows his escape has ended.  
  
“Hey, it’s that blood bag. The feral.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I recognize him. I’m told he’s a good fuck, if you’re into blood bags.”  
  
Max struggles harder, even knowing it’s useless. He’s acutely aware of each hand on his body, holding his arms, chest, and thighs. He won’t let them fuck him, is terrified that that’s where this is going to go.  
  
“Haven’t seen him in days. I bet the Organic is looking for him.”  
  
They pull him up to his feet. One has snatched the chain from his hands and yanks him by his collar along the passageway. The others surround him, two holding his arms as he struggles, terrified.  
  
He doesn’t know how, but he had wandered closer to the Organic Mechanic’s lair than he had thought. It doesn’t take them long to drag him there. The Organic Mechanic isn’t around, and Max hopes for a moment that they’ll just put him in his cage and maybe Rictus will come find him in the morning. Not that that option is particularly good either, but it’s better than being at the Organic Mechanic’s mercy.  
  
Instead, however, one of them goes over and pounds on the door to the Organic Mechanic’s room. “Organic! Hey, Organic! One of your blood bags got loose.”  
  
There’s loud grumbling and cursing from behind the door, and then it opens suddenly. “One of you had better be dying to wake me up like this.”  
  
Max cringes, turning his face away from him, his heart starting to pound.  
  
“Sorry, Organic. Just this feral. We found him running around. His arm is bleeding pretty bad.”  
  
The Organic Mechanic takes one look at Max and laughs out loud. “Shoulda known Rictus wouldn’t tie you up well enough.” He approaches and grabs Max’s bleeding arm, unwrapping the cloth and tugging it away to look. Max struggles, but the Warboys hold him tightly.  
  
“What did you boys do to him?” He looks at them critically.  
  
“We didn’t do nothing. He was like that when we found him.”  
  
Max’s arm is bleeding anew now, a thick stream of blood running down his wrist and dripping to the floor.  
  
“Get him in there,” the Organic Mechanic grumbles, pointing to his surgery room. “He can’t afford to lose more blood.”  
  
They fight to get Max into the room, and have to physically lift him up and put him on the table, but he doesn’t stop fighting there. They hold him down as he struggles and thrashes. Sure, the Organic Mechanic intends to patch him up now, but Max knows it’s a perfect chance for the man to fuck with him afterward, and he won’t just sit still and let that happen. He strains against the Warboys as they pin him and the Organic Mechanic tries to look at his arm.  
  
“He’s losing too much with all this fighting,” the Organic Mechanic growls, then puts down the needle he was attempting to stitch Max’s arm up with. “And you boys are in my way.” There are six of them around the table, trying to hold Max down. The Organic Mechanic goes over to his supplies on a table against the wall, picks through some bottles, and then comes back, pulling something from a bottle into a syringe. “This’ll calm him down.”  
  
Max shakes his head and tries to roll off the table away from the Organic Mechanic. Getting drugged by this man can never end well.  
  
“You brought this on yourself,” he says as he grabs Max’s arm and jams the needle into the crook of his elbow, then addresses the Warboys. “In a minute, he’s going to stop moving, and then he’s going to stop breathing.” He rolls a cart with an old piece of medical machinery over, plugs it in to a generator, and starts up the generator. “When he stops moving, get out. I’ll need space.”  
  
Max is terrified by his words, and even more terrified as his muscles slowly stop responding to commands. He focuses on breathing, only barely aware of the Warboys letting him go and hurrying out of the Organic Mechanic’s way, but even breathing becomes difficult. His eyes dart around until they too no longer respond, and his vision loses focus. His lungs stop and he feels like he’s suffocating, the air in them growing more and more stale by the second. He wants to thrash and fight and run, but he can’t even breathe. He sees the fuzzy form of the Organic Mechanic lean over him, laughing to himself, with something in his hand.  
  
“Well, at least you make things interesting for me.” He forces Max’s mouth open and jams a tube in, sliding it slowly down Max’s throat. It goes deeper and deeper, the Organic Mechanic slowly prodding with its end until he gets it where he wants it, each movement of the tube making Max feel like his throat is going to be scraped raw and torn open. The pain is sharp and deep, and Max starts to feel dizzy. The Organic Mechanic lets go of the tube, then there’s a click and Max’s lungs suddenly inflate, the machine forcing air into them. The other man makes some adjustments on the machine, then turns back to Max as the ventilator breathes into him, lets his lungs deflate, then repeats the process. “Shame you can’t watch, but we don’t want these drying out.” He closes Max’s eyes, then pats his cheek.  
  
Max tries to force his muscles to move. He needs to get away from this, needs to run. But his body won’t move no matter how hard he tries. He can feel everything, the cold brush of air, the tickling trail of the Organic Mechanic’s fingers running down his body, but he can’t even shudder at the sensation. The terror overtakes Max, the feeling settling in his chest, churning and almost painful, but his body can’t respond to it. His breathing is forced by the machine, slow and seemingly calm, and the fear just churns inside of him, feeling like it’s eating him away. There’s nothing he can do.  
  
He feels the Organic Mechanic by his injured arm, then the stab of a needle threading through his torn flesh, stitching the wound closed. The pain spikes through his arm, but he can’t react to it, and somehow that makes it worse. When the doctor ties off the final suture and wraps Max’s arm, he stands up and Max hears him step back toward his head. He fiddles with the machine, and it quickens, increasing Max’s breathing slightly.  
  
“It would be a waste to just let you lie here until the drug wears off.” The Organic Mechanic laughs, and Max can just imagine the drool that must be dripping from his lip now. He’s not as scared of the Organic Mechanic as he is of Joe, but between not being able to see, and having no control of his body, he’s still terrified. Never in his life has he felt so completely defenseless.  
  
The Organic Mechanic moves back down the table, and Max feels him grab at the flap of his trousers, quickly pulling them open. Max tries to shake his head. He tries to say no, even with the tube in his mouth. He tries to push himself up. His body doesn’t move.  
  
The Organic Mechanic yanks his trousers down roughly. “Just you and me for a while,” he says with a laugh. “Gonna have a little fun.” He moves down to Max’s feet, grabs his legs, and slides him forcefully down on the table, giving him a couple extra tugs until Max feels his ass half overhang the edge, and then he pushes Max’s knees up to his chest. Helpless to stop him, Max wants to scream in frustration and fear. All he can do is lie there.  
  
The Organic Mechanic caresses his ass. “Such a fine specimen.”  
  
Max can’t stand the feel of his touch, his grimy fingers grabbing at the mound of his ass, fingernails scraping his skin.  
  
“And,” the Organic Mechanic continues, “I bet you’re nice and loose now, aren’t you?” His hands leave him and there’s a soft pop as of a bottle opening, a brief silence, and then a slick finger slides into Max’s hole. It goes in deep, until Max can feel his knuckle and hand pressing hard against him.  
  
“Oh, yeah,” the Organic Mechanic practically moans, pulling his finger out and then inserting two. “Nice and relaxed. You’re so ready for me.” He pulls out then adds a third finger, and Max is afraid that his whole hand is going to go into him again. The stretch even of three fingers is considerably less painful without his muscles automatically clenching, at least. He knows that relaxing when he’s penetrated makes it easier on him, but he can so rarely manage it. Being fucked is too awful, and trying to relax himself for it feels too much like allowing it to happen.  
  
The fingers retreat and Max can hear the jingling of a belt buckle, and he mentally braces himself. He tries to put himself elsewhere, but the slow press of the Organic Mechanic’s cock against him drags him unwillingly back. The man slides the tip of his cock down Max’s crack and back toward his hole, smearing warm lube across his burn, then presses at his hole again, opening him up slowly and sliding in with a satisfied sigh. Max wishes he could kick his feet downward, hit the man in the face, and get him out of where he has no right to be.  
  
The Organic Mechanic pushes in to the root, his body quivering and his cock hardening further inside Max. “You feel that?” he says to Max. “I am so deep inside you. Oh, you are so good.” He slides his hips back, then snaps them forward, shaking the table as he rams into Max again. “Look how well you take me,” he continues, and Max tries to tune out his words, disgusted by them nearly as much as he is by having his cock inside him.   
  
The Organic Mechanic moans, picking up his pace until his hips are slapping against Max’s ass, his sweat smearing onto his skin, his fingers gripping Max’s thighs harder and harder. The breathing machine continues to push air into Max’s lungs at a deceptively calm pace, though inside he’s screaming in helpless frustration as he’s fucked.  
  
It’s not that he thinks he could have done anything about this even if he hadn’t been paralyzed; he’s sure he’d be held down by Warboys, or tied to the table, or something, but at least then he’d be able to struggle against it. Lying there and taking it without being able to even lift a muscle to try to stop it makes this so much worse. He knows he doesn’t want this, but the stillness of his body feels like acceptance. The thought makes him want to scream. Why couldn’t the drug have knocked him out, too? Why couldn’t he at least have been unaware of what is happening? He focuses on the breaths flowing in and out of his lungs and the hiss of the machine, and is thankful when the Organic Mechanic suddenly stops and slides his cock out of him, but the man pulls his legs straight again, then rolls his body over on the table so his legs are hanging over the edge, his feet resting on the ground at uncomfortable angles. The Organic Mechanic knees his legs out of the way as he steps up, then guides his cock back into Max’s ass, one hand settling on the back of his hip.  
  
One of Max’s arms is pinned under his stomach, the other hanging half way off the table, and his head is forced to the side, making the breathing tube in his throat hurt even more than before. The Organic Mechanic jerks into him with a sick laugh. “I love it when they’re so compliant.”  
  
In his head, Max snarls. As if he has a choice in any of this.  
  
He’s trying to distract himself again, trying to pull his mind away from this horror when the man behind him pushes up the back of his shirt and leans forward over his body. His hips twitch in short fast movements against Max’s ass, his cock jabbing inside him, and Max feels his tongue on his back, licking sideways across the words injected into his skin. Max would shudder if he could, but his muscles remain relaxed as the wet, warm tongue swipes across another row of letters, then straight up his spine. The Organic Mechanic pushes himself up again, then both hands grip Max’s ass hard and he fucks into him in deep thrusts, smashing Max’s pelvis hard into the edge of the table with each one.  
  
The Organic Mechanic starts moaning, and Max tries to block that out too. It goes on for minutes on end, he doesn’t even know how long, the rhythm of the cock filling him again and again and the sounds the Organic Mechanic makes making Max feel numb and hollowed out. He’s given up on trying to move, until a hard thrust into him makes his hole twitch and tighten unexpectedly. The man suddenly stutters to a stop as he cums with a long groan.  
  
Max manages to peel his eyes open, though they feel heavier than he could imagine. He wills his muscles to move, feels them twitching across his body, but doing little else.  
  
“Fuck,” the Organic Mechanic mutters as he pulls out. “Didn’t mean to cum inside you.” He sighs. “Gonna have to clean you out now. I’m sure Rictus’ll be looking for you in the morning. Don’t want him finding you full of cum.” He slides two fingers into Max’s ass, scoops them around in a half-circle, and pulls them out again as Max twitches in discomfort. A drip of cum runs down toward Max’s balls. He slaps Max’s ass, then steps away. Max tries weakly to push himself up. His muscles are starting to respond again, but not well enough. His throat screams in pain, his lungs want to heave faster than the machine is letting him breathe, and it hurts, fighting against it. He reaches up with shaking hands and slowly pulls the tube out of his mouth, grimacing as it drags through his raw throat. He coughs and gasps when it’s out, gives a raspy groan, and collapses on the table again.  
  
The Organic Mechanic returns quickly and cuffs his wrists together under the table. “Ah ah, can’t have you going anywhere yet,” he says as Max tries to struggle against the restraint.  
  
He can’t see what the Organic Mechanic is doing when he steps away again, can only hear him rummage around, and hears a liquid pouring into something. The man steps straight up to Max’s exposed ass again when he returns. Max kicks out at him, but he’s still weak, his muscles not fully obeying yet, and the other man simply takes a step back before returning, unfazed. He lays something on Max’s back, then pulls one of his cheeks aside and presses something into him, narrow at first, widening into a bulbous head, then narrowing again to fit inside him and stay tightly. Max groans and adjusts his feet under him as it fits inside him like it’s meant to be there. The thing on his back is lifted up, and after a moment cold fluid flows into Max’s body. Max gasps and jerks. He struggles against his restraints again and tries to lift his stomach off the table. It flows into him quickly, the temperature chilling him, and his gut cramps painfully.  
  
He groans and balls his hands into fists, pressing his eyes shut tight, but it keeps coming, filling him more and more, and the pain gets so intense he thinks he’s going to be sick. He squirms and finally cries out.  
  
“Almost there,” the Organic Mechanic tells him as yet more cold water pours into him and he cramps again. It’s astoundingly intense, sharp waves of pain washing through him, and he cries out again. Max soon feels so full he can’t tell if more is flowing into him or not, and all he can do is grit his teeth through the pain. He jumps when the man behind him lays a hand on his ass.  
  
“You’re going to want to clench now, or this might get pretty embarrassing for you.” He grips the nozzle inserted into Max and pulls slowly, sliding it out as Max tries to hold the water in. Max isn’t sure if this could get any more humiliating than it already is, and he wants the water out of him now, but holds tightly with a groan. He’d rather not make a mess of himself, and hopes the Organic Mechanic will give him a chance to release it soon. The cold seeps into his whole body, and he shivers as the cramps ripple through his gut, climbing slowly higher. He looks over his shoulder, but the man is just standing there, looking Max over with a sick look of amusement on his face.   
  
Max closes his eyes and breathes in shallow breaths. “Can’t,” he grits out finally, hardly able to hold it in any longer.  
  
He hears the Organic Mechanic set down what sounds like a pail behind him, and Max tries to move, but as another cramp hits him, he freezes, fearing he’s going to lose control. He lets out a long whine and shakes against the metal of the table.  
  
“Hold it,” the Organic Mechanic says warningly. Max shakes his head and feels a little dribble down the inside of his thigh, and clenches hard again.  
  
“Just another minute,” the other man says, amusement clear in his voice.  
  
Max grits his teeth and holds his breath as long as he can, but as the need grows more urgent, he lets the breath out in a groan and tries again to push himself back. “Please…” He feels a little more of the water dibble down his thigh.  
  
“Alright, alright.” The doctor grips his hips and guides him backward and slowly downward, until he’s seated on the bucket and can finally release the water inside him. He tries not to think of the Organic Mechanic watching him as he does, just focuses on the relief of having it out of him and the slowly-subsiding pain.

  
  
*****

  
The Organic Mechanic chains Max’s collar to the bottom of his old cage, and leaves him sitting in the main room of the infirmary for Rictus to find in the morning. When he leaves Max alone, Max tries to get free to run again, but no matter how much he tugs on the chain of his leash, it won’t come loose.  
  
Max curls up and tries to make himself small. Maybe the Warboys won’t notice him. Maybe Rictus won’t even spot him. Maybe he can just disappear into the background and become a regular blood bag again.  
  
The morning passes, and Rictus doesn’t come. Max guesses it’s afternoon by the time the Organic Mechanic decides he’s in the way and has Max put back into his cage. When Rictus does finally appear in the doorway, he looks angry. His eyes go straight to Max’s cage, and a brief look of relief washes over him, but it’s quickly overtaken by anger again, and he strides into the room. He doesn’t even talk to the Organic Mechanic, just yanks on the release at the bottom of Max’s cage, and Max falls out, too petrified by the intensity of his anger to resist. Rictus unties his legs and drops him roughly to the ground, then picks him up and hefts him over his shoulder. The Organic Mechanic just watches with a quiet look of amusement as he carries Max out.  
  
Rictus doesn’t speak for several minutes, until they’re away and in an empty hallway. “Why did you do that? I was trying to keep you safe.” His crushing grip on Max’s legs tightens as Max struggles weakly. Max tries to push himself up against Rictus’ back, but there’s not a lot he can do from the position he’s in.  
  
Rictus continues. “Now Dad found out and wants to punish you again.”  
  
Max freezes in terror. Is Rictus going to take him to Joe? He doesn’t think he would, but maybe he’s been ordered. He tries to look around the man’s side to see where they’re going, but all these passageways look more or less the same, and he’s long since lost track of where they are.  
  
He’s relieved when he recognizes the door to Rictus’ room, but as Rictus locks them in, a nauseous feeling of worry starts to creep into Max’s gut. He’s glad Rictus didn’t take him to Joe, but he’s probably going to be raped anyway, and it’s going to hurt.  
  
Rictus drops Max onto the bed and then pins him, catching his wrists and forcing them down to the bed beside Max’s head, his knee on Max’s stomach. Max stares up at Rictus fearfully.  
  
“I saved you from him,” Rictus says, anger seeping into the edges of his voice. “You probably don’t deserve it. He says you don’t care about me, no matter what I do for you.”  
  
Max licks his lips nervously, but can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Rictus’ intense gaze. What must Joe have said to Rictus to get him to change like this? Rictus may be one of Max’s constant nightmares, but if there was anything to be said for him, it was that at least he cared, in his own twisted way. Now Max isn’t so sure he’ll have even that. What will Rictus be like if he’s not even trying to be gentle?  
  
“I said I’d punish you, so he wouldn’t.”  
  
Max’s stomach drops.   
  
“You need to learn to behave yourself if you’re going to live here.” Rictus suddenly sounds so much like his father that Max cringes. Rictus lets his weight off of Max’s stomach and flips him over, then quickly yanks his shirt up over his head and strips it off. Max struggles to crawl away, but Rictus grips the back of his neck and shoves his face down against the bed.  
  
“Can’t let something like a blood bag tear apart family,” Rictus says almost regretfully, more to himself than to Max as he puts his weight on Max’s back and starts working off his trousers and leg brace. Then to Max, “gotta punish you and then he says you’re off-limits.”  
  
Max goes momentarily still at that, his hands frozen against Rictus’ leg, his feet stopped mid-kick. Off-limits? As in no more fuckings? It’s such an important piece of information, he almost wants to ask Rictus to repeat it, to clarify it, to confirm that he’ll be free from this. Will he be free from everybody? Or is it just an agreement between Rictus and Joe? Even if the Warboys and Organic Mechanic continue to fuck him, it would be no small blessing to be free from Rictus and Joe. He hopes so much that Joe is part of the agreement. If not, if he had a choice, he would take Rictus continuing to fuck him if it would give him some protection against Joe instead.  
  
Max realizes suddenly that he’s completely naked and Rictus has shifted, is pinning his arms down and is tying one of his wrists to the far corner of the headboard, and he struggles again, trying to yank his arm away. Even if he’ll be off-limits later, he’s not now, and he dreads what punishment from Rictus might be like.  
  
Rictus outmuscles him and finishes securing his wrist, then ties the other to the corner of the footboard, and finally lets his weight off Max and steps away, leaving him lying on his stomach across the bed. Max is tied somewhat loosely, but not enough that his hands can meet in front of him, and the loops around his wrists are painfully tight. He struggles against them and pulls at them with his teeth, but suddenly Rictus grabs his legs and tugs him hard backwards until his arms are outstretched enough that he can’t get them to his mouth. Rictus straddles his back, then grabs his jaw and quickly stuffs a wad of cloth into Max’s mouth, pressing more and more of it in until Max feels like he’s going to choke. He tries to push it out with his tongue, but there’s too much, it’s too dense, and then Rictus ties a thin strip of cloth across his open mouth and around the back of his head.  
  
The next thing that goes onto Max’s face is a blindfold, and Max feels his heart rate shoot up. He shakes his head, makes a desperate keen through the gag in his mouth, and struggles to get his legs under him, to push himself up and try to buck Rictus off his back. It doesn’t work. With the blindfold secured, Rictus’ hand slides back and kneads Max’s ass as he fights, feeling the muscle tense and ripple.  
  
When Rictus climbs off him again, Max wiggles forward on the bed, trying to get close enough that he can bring his hand to his face and pull the blindfold off and the gag out. Rictus yanks him back down by one leg again, and as Max fights to crawl back forward, Rictus reaches between his legs and grabs his cock and balls in his fist. Max freezes, his breath caught in his throat. Rictus pulls threateningly, squeezing hard enough to bring tears to Max’s eyes, and Max slowly moves his body back down to where Rictus had pulled it and lies flat against the bed.  
  
“Good.” Rictus’ hand loosens, then a moment later releases him, and Max lies quivering on the bed. He doesn’t know what’s coming, doesn’t know what Rictus has planned for him, but now he knows how serious Rictus is about hurting him if Max is difficult. A sharp line of pain suddenly spreads across his back with a snap, and he jumps, making a small, surprised sound. Rictus trails the leather belt across Max’s back, then pulls it back and hits him again, making Max jolt. His swings quickly grow harder, until Max is crying out around the gag with each one, his wrists twisting in their bindings to grip the ropes with white knuckles. The blows land all up and down his back and across his ass, some of them wrapping around his side and hitting his raw brand, making Max sob. He tries to curl up and protect himself as best he can, but every time Rictus either grabs his ankle and tugs him out straight again, or threatens him with crushing pressure on his cock and balls until Max just lies still and takes it.  
  
He beats him over and over, until Max is sure his back and ass must be bright red and striped with angry, inflamed skin and blood. Every stinging strike on top of already throbbing flesh makes him cry out until he doesn’t even have the strength for that anymore and takes the rest of his beating with quiet whimpers.  
  
Finally Rictus stops and lays the belt aside. Max doesn’t move, only quivers where he lies, his muscles loose and weak. He can’t really hear anything through the throbbing rush of blood in his ears, but Rictus leaves him alone for a long while until Max tries weakly to move. He feels Rictus sit on the bed beside him, but he doesn’t touch him, and Max would try to get free again, but he knows it would only result in more pain.  
  
Finally Rictus moves. He grabs Max’s leg and tugs him down hard, until Max’s arms are stretched painfully against their restraints and his hips fit nicely on the edge of the bed, his legs hanging down to the floor. Max groans in pain, but doesn’t move.  
  
A touch of cool flesh on his burning back makes Max jump. It carries a hint of gentleness, and Max wonders if Rictus feels bad for what he’s done. But then Max feels Rictus lower himself to his knees behind him, and his brain snaps back into clarity. He’s still going to be raped. After all this, Rictus still means to fuck him with that huge cock. Max doesn’t think he can take more pain.  
  
He kicks and struggles to climb back onto the bed, but Rictus grips his hips and forces him down hard. His hand slides down Max’s crack, pausing to tease at his hole, then down to grip his balls again. He pulls hard, and Max goes still with a whimper.  
  
He takes in a deep, shaky breath as Rictus grabs his sore ass harshly in both hands, and he tries to prepare to be violated again. He’s never truly ready for it. Having someone else inside him, being used for his body alone… It’s a feeling he’d never thought he’d have to prepare himself for, much less repeatedly.  
  
Rictus thrusts in dry, and Max screams around the gag. The large man slams in with a grunt, not pausing to make it easy on either of them, and Max is sure he’s torn again, feels like the cock is shredding him to pieces. He screams again, weakly, and it breaks down into a muffled sob. Rictus pulls back then slams in again violently. His hips smash against Max’s beaten ass, his cock penetrating deep as always, and Max cries quietly as Rictus starts pounding him with unusual roughness.  
  
Max’s mind goes blank, but his body is all too feeling of the sharp, repeated pain pounding through it. After a few horrible minutes, Rictus suddenly pulls out without warning. Max lifts his head slowly. Is he done already? But Rictus just grips his legs and folds them under Max so he’s supported on his knees on the bed, legs spread wide, face still down on the sheets. His fingers slip between Max’s stomach and legs to grip his hips tightly as he reenters and picks up where he had left off, his breath coming in heavy puffs. Max grunts painfully with each hit, but doesn’t move to escape it.  
  
This position is apparently not doing it for Rictus either, because after several more minutes he pulls out again suddenly, leaving Max gasping and shaking weakly. Max keeps his face buried in the bed as he tries to hold back sobs. Rictus returns and lays a hand on Max’s ass, then something cool and hard presses into Max’s hole, and he takes in a little gasp. After the initial push past Max’s ring of muscle, Rictus slides it in quickly, and with a grimace Max recognizes it by feel as the vibrator the Organic Mechanic had used last time he had bred him. The knob on the side is unmistakable as it squeezes through, but this time Rictus has pushed it in upside down, the knob meant to press into Max’s prostate on top instead. Max hopes the vibrations won’t stimulate him without it. He doesn’t want to feel pleasure at the hands of a rapist ever again. It makes his insides twist just thinking about it, makes him feel sick.  
  
When the vibrator is all the way inside him, Max grips fistfuls of the bedspread below him and waits for the click and the vibrations. Instead, Rictus pushes at the base of the toy, pressing it upward, and Max groans with gritted teeth, lifting his ass up to try to alleviate the pain of the press of it. Rictus grunts, displeased, and pushes his hips back down. A moment later Max feels the softer tip of Rictus’ thick cock press testingly at his entrance under the vibrator, and Max’s eyes open wide behind the blindfold.  
  
Rictus shoves Max back down as he scrambles to push himself up again, then grips his thick cock firmly and presses at Max’s hole again. Max clenches around the vibrator and whines desperately as Rictus tries to push his way in. He presses up on the base of the vibrator again, stretching Max painfully, and it’s just enough, because Max feels the thick cockhead start to squeeze into him.  
  
He screams. He’s never felt anything so painful, of all the times he’s been sodomized, even when Joe tore him. He knows now that he hadn’t torn when Rictus entered him earlier, because he tears now, and it is excruciating. He screams against the bed, all his muscles tightening and shaking, but Rictus just continues to press inward slowly, grunting at the pain he is probably feeling as well. Max sobs and wants to beg for it to stop, but can’t say a word with the gag in his mouth. He writhes weakly, but Rictus holds him down firmly.  
  
When he feels Rictus’ hips come to rest against his ass, he tries to breathe through the blinding pain, but he can barely take any air in without his body forcing it immediately back out as a scream or a sob. Rictus shifts a bit, then there’s a click and the vibrations start, and Rictus moans behind him, his fingers curling into Max’s flesh in pleasure. He stays pressed in deep for a minute, then slowly starts to thrust, slow and shallow at first, but picking up speed that makes Max practically wail.  
  
Even with the vibrations, there’s no pleasure in this for Max, but he can’t be grateful for it because the pain seems to take over the whole of his consciousness. He screams with every press into him, his voice going raw and weak by the time the vibrations bring Rictus to his peak and he cums with a hard press and a heavy groan.  
  
Rictus rests a moment inside of Max, then pulls out, trying not to look at the blood smeared across his member. Max’s sobs are quiet, but don’t stop as he pulls the vibrator out too, and then he shoves Max forward on the bed and lets him collapse on his side in a quivering mess. He lies still and cries, silently.  
  
He only leaves Max alone for as long as it takes him to clean himself up and put his trousers and breathing pack back on, and then he roughly unties Max’s wrists and forces him up to his feet. Blood and cum leaks out of him, running down between his legs, but Max doesn’t even have the will to be disgusted or worried about it. Not after what he just went through.   
  
Max can’t stay up by his own strength, so Rictus has to manhandle him back into his clothes, then carries him like a sack back down through the Citadel. His muscles are tense against Max’s weakened, lax body.  
  
When he reaches the infirmary, he deposits Max at the Organic Mechanic’s feet and stares down at him hard for a moment. “I’m done with him,” he says shortly, something like regret barely audible in his voice, and then he turns and leaves.

  
*****

  
Max lives for an agonizing few weeks chained in the Organic Mechanic’s room, under the man’s constant care as his badly torn hole heals from the abuse. The Organic Mechanic violates him only occasionally, though every exam by the filthy man feels like a violation by itself. He uses his ass once with an unexpected gentleness, but mostly forces himself on Max’s mouth, as “payment” for his careful treatment. Max is in too much pain to move through most of it, and can only struggle weakly when the Organic Mechanic comes at him with the ring gag.  
  
Afterward, when Max no longer needs constant cleaning, care, and treatment for his injury, he’s put back into his cage, and he never thought he’d feel so relieved to be in such a horrible thing.  
  
Now that Rictus no longer has claim on Max, the Warboys fuck him now and then, but not often, and mostly he is left to heal. When the Organic Mechanic finally decides he is ready, he is used for his blood again. The large needle is painful, and he doesn’t like being used this way by any means, but compared to being raped, he has to admit it is the better option.  
  
That doesn’t stop him from fighting it, though. Part of him is afraid of fighting hard enough to draw any serious attention to himself, nothing that will make him deserve further punishment, but he won’t be one of those blood bags who just accepts his lot in life, so he continues to at least make things difficult for them. They muzzle him by habit, and quickly learn that if they want him out of his cage, a few prods of electricity is about the only way to get him to let go.  
  
Rictus doesn’t come back for him.  
  
Max is glad for it, and enough time passes that he stops worrying night and day that Joe will come for him, too.  
  
He sits in his cage day after day, and tries not to look at the Warboys and blood bags around him, trying to trick his mind into thinking that he’s not here, or at least into believing that this won’t be the rest of his life. He cringes and tries to block out the sound of Joe’s voice when it filters into the room over the loudspeakers he uses to spread his lies to the people below. Today’s another run to Gastown and the Bullet Farm. Faintly, he hears the roar of the crowd and the thundering sound that reminds him of a waterfall, but it can’t possibly be that, can it? He stares up at the cracks in the ceiling above him through which dim light filters, and imagines being out there.  
  
“I’ve got a Warboy running on empty. Hook up that full life.”  
  
Max looks down just in time to see the Organic Mechanic motion toward him, and he pushes his feet against the bars of his cage and wedges himself in. They may use him, but he’ll never go easily.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts at the very end of the movie, and was requested by the first person to encourage me to continue this story, so here it is. Thanks for continuing to read this long! Also this chapter basically has no porn, so sorry about that. It’s just the closest thing to a happy ending that Max is going to get.
> 
> Also I want everybody to know just how much each and every comment and kudos on this work have meant to me. You all are so unbelievably nice and accepting. Thanks so much for reading and enjoying my sick, twisted smut. You're the best!

Finally Max is free, and finally, now that he’s helped these people find a home again, he feels alright leaving. He would stay with Furiosa, someone he can truly respect and trust, but that would mean staying at the Citadel, and that is something he simply cannot do. He’s surprised he was even willing to come back here in the first place. He would have left on the way here, just waited for a stop and disappeared into the desert, but he had been so preoccupied with making sure Furiosa lived that the thought of leaving hadn’t even occurred to him.   
  
Now that he’s here, however, he knows he can’t stay. Just being near the place makes his stomach flip uncomfortably. He doesn’t care that the Citadel will be under new leadership now, or that most of the people who had tortured and raped him are dead. The memories will always be there, and his skin crawls just looking at those stone towers.  
  
A nod is all he can give Furiosa as he disappears into the crowd, expecting that he’ll never see her again.  
  
He leaves as fast as he can and goes as far as he can, steering clear of people as much as possible. He can’t trust any of them. Now that he’s seen how badly people can treat him, he can’t even bring himself to visit towns to trade or work. He lives off the land, scrounging what little food and water he can find, and stealing when he’s absolutely desperate.  
  
He has nightmares that tear him from his sleep almost nightly. Sometimes he wakes up with the lingering feeling of hands on his naked, vulnerable body, and he has to cling to handfuls of his own clothing to remind himself that he’s not there. He’s not stripped bare and at someone’s mercy. It’s hard to shake the feeling of those phantom hands gripping his hips, though.  
  
He tries to move on with his life, but he’s torn between two paths the entire time. Part of him wants to take his stolen vehicle and just disappear into the desert forever, and for the first couple weeks, that’s the part that wins out, and that’s what he does. The other part of him, much to his continued disbelief, wants to turn his vehicle around and head straight back to those towers. He may be free of the place himself, but he left part of himself back there. His children.  
  
He pushes that part down for as long as he can. He can’t go back. But he thinks of those three, soon to be four, little faces often and as time passes they occupy more and more of his mind. He’s sure they’re in better hands now, is sure they won’t be used as blood bags or breeders or Warboys. But that doesn’t change the fact that if he never goes back, he will never know them. He will only ever have the one memory of his brief meeting with them in the breeders’ complex. They’ll grow and learn and live without ever knowing he even exists. And maybe it’s better that way. Death does seem to follow wherever Max goes…  
  
But again he comes back to the same point that always gets him: they’re his _children_. His last was ripped away from him too early, too painfully, and as much as he didn’t want to ever risk repeating the experience again, didn’t even want to bring a child into this world, he can’t change the fact that he has them now, and he longs to be with them.  
  
He grits his teeth and swears to himself, and turns the wheel, arcing around to go back the way he came, back to the Citadel.  
  
He can’t stop the shudder that works its way down his spine when he sees those spires emerge in the distance, and finds himself braking to a halt. He doesn’t want to go back. Can’t go back. What if things haven’t changed? What if they capture him again, what if they use him? He can’t let himself just walk into that. He’ll die before he lets anybody violate his body again. He ends up circling the area for a couple days, scoping it out, trying to determine if it’s safe. He can’t go back. But he has to.  
  
When he finally decides to go in, it takes him nearly an hour before he can force himself to start his car and actually do it. He pushes back the nightmares. It won’t happen again. It’s safe, he tells himself. A guard vehicle stops him just outside as he approaches, and he pretends he’s just a scav looking for work. He’ll trust Furiosa, he’ll trust the other women he had fought with, but he won’t trust anybody else here. He doesn’t think he ever will.  
  
Once at the base of the Citadel, the right words and the right names get him where he needs to go: up to the top where Furiosa is. She welcomes him back with a smile, some sort of relief in her eyes at seeing him, but the look on his face and the paleness of it makes the smile on hers fade.  
  
He doesn’t want to tell her. Doesn’t want to open that wound for anyone to see. But he has to if he’s going to find them again. He tells himself she already knows what happened to him here. She saw him after all, being raped right in front of her. But maybe she doesn’t remember that… He was just one blood bag among many, one more body to be used and abused.  
  
“I have kids here…” He mumbles. “They forced me to, uh…” He doesn’t say more than that. She knows at the very least that he was a prisoner here, and knew the old Citadel well enough to be able to figure out the rest. Max watches surprise pass over her face, and he turns his gaze to the ground, not wanting to see pity next.  
  
“How old?” is what she finally asks.  
  
Max stares at the ground a little longer, still uncomfortable. “Maybe six months. One shouldn’t be born yet.”   
  
“What do you want with them?” Her voice is almost distrustful, and Max has to remind himself that they had only actually known each other barely a few days. He’s still largely an unknown to her. Furiosa still has to protect her own people, and Max made sure by leaving that day that he wasn’t counted among them.  
  
Max swallows nervously and finally looks up at her, his forehead crumpled. “I just want to know them. Know they’re safe. It’s, mm… been a long time since…” He trails off. Since he had a kid, he doesn’t say. Since he knew what it was like to feel that kind of connection, to watch them grow and learn. He hardly even had the chance before. It was painfully short-lived.  
  
Furiosa’s shoulders relax a bit, and she lets her guarded expression fall. “Well, they shouldn’t have been separated from their mothers at that age,” she says. “Can you recognize the mothers?”  
  
Max nods.  
  
“Good. I can help you try to find them.”  
  
Max nods again, weakly, and follows her as she walks purposefully out of the room.  
  
He trails behind her here and there through the Citadel as she asks questions of various people about where she might find these women. It’s harder without names to go by, and they visit woman after woman seemingly throughout the whole tunnel system, sometimes singly, often in groups, and Max shakes his head again and again, not recognizing any of them. He sticks close to Furiosa as they walk, wary of every person they pass by, especially the men. He sweats nervously and reminds himself that Joe and Rictus and the Organic Mechanic are dead, and he hopes that if there are any Warboys left here, they are not the ones who would do something like rape.  
  
He nervously watches someone over his shoulder, and jumps when he bumps into Furiosa and finds her looking at him worriedly. He hadn’t realized he had gotten so close.   
  
“You don’t have to be scared. Nobody’s going to hurt you here,” she tells him.  
  
He wants to say that he was so badly hurt last time he was here that he has a hard time believing that, but he just grunts instead. He doesn’t want to insult her or all the work she’s probably done straightening this place out, and he definitely does not want to open up the subject of everything they had done to him.  
  
Finally they find one of the women, and Max nods shakily when he recognizes her, though only barely. It’s the woman who hadn’t raped Max, who had probably been given his seed against her own will by the Organic Mechanic. He stands cautiously back, with eyes only for the child sitting nearby. The woman looks at him distrustfully.  
  
Furiosa speaks to the woman. “You recognize him?”  
  
She nods. “Father of my girl, I gathered. What do you want?” Her voice is accusing, and she picks up her child and holds her defensively.  
  
Max’s voice is caught in his throat, and his lips open and close uselessly as he tries to find something to say. Furiosa watches him a minute, waiting for him to explain himself, but when he finally gives up and looks at the floor, nearly cringing, she takes over for him.  
  
“He won’t take your child. He just wants to know her.”  
  
The mother looks hesitant, still eyeing Max distrustfully. “What right does he have? No good ever came of a man in this place…”  
  
Max sees his chance to be with his child slipping away. “They forced me too,” he finds himself mumbling, still not raising his eyes past the floor. “Never, mm, would have made you…” He trails off. There’s a brief silence in the room.  
  
“He’s a good man,” Furiosa supplies. “He helped us get here. He saved my life. For what it’s worth, I trust him.”  
  
The tightness in Max’s muscles softens at her words, and he looks up at her, grateful.  
  
The woman slowly approaches Max. “Never heard of a man getting used.”  
  
Max’s gaze skitters away from her nervously. “They…” He swallows back a lump in his throat. “They did a lot to me… that I… mm…” He can’t finish, can’t even look at her, but the woman seems to understand. She hesitates, looks back at Furiosa, then makes up her mind and reaches out and carefully places her child into his arms. Max automatically cradles the babe carefully.  
  
Such a surge of emotion floods through him that his throat tightens up and he almost stops breathing. He cradles the baby closer, fighting back tears. His hand shakes as he cups it around the back of her head, and she gurgles, reaching up toward his face with an open-mouthed grin. He ducks his head, letting her grab at his nose and stubble curiously. He pulls back only when he realizes he’s crying and his tears are soaking into her wrap.  
  
“Her name’s Nova. I’m Seren,” the mother says gently. “What do I call you?”  
  
Max hesitates, still habitually protective of his name. But she had just handed him their child. What’s his name, compared to that? “Max,” he says hoarsely.  
  
Furiosa waits quietly by while Max holds his baby, his free hand fluttering here and there, gently touching her soft hair, holding her little hand, or lifting her up as she looks around curiously, until Seren is comfortable enough to leave her child with him and go back to where she was working earlier, and Max eventually adjusts the baby so she’s upright against his shoulder. He rubs her back and lets her play with the collar of his jacket as he presses his cheek softly against the side of her head, just feeling comfort and calm in the closeness.  
  
“Do you want to stay?” Furiosa asks quietly. “I can come find you again later.”  
  
Max looks startled for a moment, then he pulls his head away from his child and looks at her thoughtfully. Right now, he doesn’t ever want to let go.  
  
“Have you been to see Melody and Juni yet?” Seren asks. At Max’s blank expression, she clarifies: “They have your boys.”  
  
Max shakes his head.  
  
“Come on, I’ll show you where they are.” She gets up and leads them out of the room, letting Max continue to hold her daughter. Furiosa follows behind, and Max isn’t sure if she wants to keep an eye on him for his sake, for the others’ sakes, or is coming just because she’s curious.  
  
Max is nervous again as they approach the room where Seren tells him Juni and Melody usually are. His hands twitch, eager to hold his sons, but afraid at the same time. He holds Nova close, as much for his own sense of security as hers.  
  
There’s a curtain of beads in the doorway, and she holds it aside for Max. He steps in cautiously. There are several women in the room as he enters, all talking and laughing, but they quiet down and look at him suspiciously as he stops just inside the door. Max returns a fearful look to them, and holds his baby protectively, as if they might be a threat to her. Seren enters behind him, with Furiosa behind her, and the women seem to relax a little. Seren glances at Max, then heads over to a couple of the women sitting against the wall. They look a little different from the last time Max saw them, but he recognizes them. He doesn’t follow her; his legs feel frozen stiff.  
  
He presses his back up against the wall as Seren talks to the others, and his eyes dart about the room nervously. He tries to hold himself together. He supports Nova’s head with his hand and turns his own head to press his brow against her.  
  
He’s startled to hear people step near him, not having realized he had closed his eyes, and he looks up quickly. He’s met by the faces of all three mothers, and as he catches the eye of one who bore one of his sons, he’s suddenly back in the nightmare of the past, looking up at her through the bars of a muzzle as she straddles his hips and rapes him for his seed. He must jerk back visibly, because Furiosa steps forward suddenly, murmurs something to the other women that Max can’t make out through the noise in his head, and Seren hurries forward to gently take the baby from his arms as Furiosa starts to guide him slowly toward the door.  
  
The next thing he knows, he’s crouched in the hallway, his heartbeat slowing from what must have been a panic attack, and Furiosa is crouched nearby, giving him just enough space while simultaneously being close enough to react if he became a danger. He looks up and around quickly. They’re alone.  
  
“You okay now?”  
  
He shakes his head, more of a twitch than an answer, then swallows and nods.  
  
She doesn’t seem convinced. “Are you?”   
  
He looks her in the eye and gives another nod.  
  
“Alright.” Furiosa stands up. “Do you still want to see them?”  
  
He clears his throat and is about to tell her that he does, if she’ll let him, but one of them is already poking her head out the doorway behind Furiosa. Furiosa follows his gaze.  
  
“Is he safe?” The woman asks Furiosa quietly, and Furiosa turns back to Max, as if to redirect the question to him.  
  
Max pushes himself up on shaky legs, forcing back a grimace as his knee cracks as he does. He nods solemnly. “Won’t hurt anybody.” He wouldn’t feel completely confident promising that, except he knows that Furiosa won’t let him hurt anybody, even if he’s lost control himself. He can trust her with that.  
  
“Over here,” Furiosa says, starting to lead Max down the hallway and motioning to the women behind her.  
  
He steels himself to face them and push down the memories that are always bubbling just under the surface, reminding himself that things are different now. They’re not going to use him or hurt him. He has to stop before they enter the room Furiosa’s leading them to and let the women go ahead. He keeps himself near the door as he enters behind them, making sure he can at least feel comfortable in having an escape if he needs it.  
  
Furiosa stays near Max. Seren stands off to the side, and Max is faced with the two women who raped him, though his attention is focused on the babies they’ve brought with them. The air feels tense. One of the women steps toward him, looking uncomfortable. Max tries to chase away the image of the muzzle bars in front of his face.  
  
She starts speaking. Max can see her lips moving, but can’t hear any words. Other voices scream in the back of his head. He tries to keep control of himself. He glances to Furiosa, checking to see if it’s not just him, then back at the woman. She says something else, still lost to the buzz in his head, then reaches out and places her baby into his arms, and everything suddenly goes quiet and still in Max’s head.  
  
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Didn’t have much of a choice myself, though,” she says, and Max is almost surprised to hear her voice. He stares down at the baby, and she reaches across to stroke the child’s sparse hair. “His name is Tal.”  
  
“Tal,” Max repeats quietly, trying out the name. His vision starts to blur with tears again, and he blinks them away rapidly. He moves his hand to cup the side of the baby’s face, and Tal grips his fingers in tiny hands and tries to put them in his mouth. Max pulls his hand back. He’s been out in the wasteland, is covered in dirt and sweat and probably still some engine grease from when he had had to do some repairs to his vehicle. The last thing he wants is to make his new son sick. Tal looks at him, wide-eyed at being denied something to teethe on, then his face wrinkles up, and he starts to cry.  
  
Max’s heart clenches at the sound. “Shh, shh.” He rocks the baby carefully, trying to stroke the back of his hand comfortingly with his thumb. He eventually lifts him upright against his shoulder, bouncing him lightly, and finds himself humming some old, half-forgotten tune until his son quiets down. The women talk while he rocks his baby.  
  
He’s grateful to be trusted with his children. They could so easily have turned him away, and he’d be left with only that one memory of meeting them. He’s awed to see these little faces again, though his chest aches at the same time. He doesn’t know how much he’ll be able to be around for them, never even knows out there if he’ll survive to the next day, but for now he is glad to be able to spend this time with them.  
  
When Max finally hands Tal back to Juni, and Melody approaches, he feels nervous again. He’s even less comfortable with her. Juni at least had felt bad and apologized when she had to fuck him. Melody had made him feel like he didn’t matter.  
  
She doesn’t seem to know what to say at first, then gives a small smile and passes her baby over to him. “You seem like a good dad. You’re welcome to babysit him any time you want.”  
  
Max adjusts his hold on the baby. He’s heavier than Nova or Tal, and he blinks sleepily up at Max.  
  
“I’ve been calling him Rev.” She shrugs. “They told me he was going to be a Warboy.”  
  
“Mm,” Max murmurs, and pulls him closer. He’s glad he won’t have to be anything he doesn’t want to be now. He can be raised better, taught how to treat people like human beings. He’ll know that people are not things.  
  
Melody goes back to the other women, and Max rocks his son gently, murmuring a quiet greeting to the baby. He knows he’ll have a chance at a better future, but he wonders what else might be in store for his son in the years to come. This world isn’t particularly kind to anybody.  
  
He kisses his cheek and the baby laughs at the tickle of Max’s stubble. Max responds by nuzzling against him again, and can’t help but grin at the sound of his giggles. For a moment, he gets lost in the joy and forgets the pain that has been stabbing in his chest. He dreads that this harsh world may someday break these three just as it has broken him, but for now, he can hope that Furiosa’s new Citadel will give them the safety and security and peace of mind they deserve, and that they can grow up healthy and happy and strong. For now, he can hope that they won’t be violently taken from him like his family was before, and he can let himself enjoy the warmth and comfort of new family.  
  
He kisses Rev’s cheek again for another giggle, and as the boy starts to wiggle and kick in his arms, he lowers himself to the floor and sets Rev in front of him. The baby grins toothlessly and props himself on one arm as he reaches to pull at Max’s boot laces with his other hand. His hair sticks up wildly, and Max tries to smooth it down, but a little cowlick on the back springs back up. Max smiles to himself.  
  
*****  
  
With some work, they track down the fourth woman he was forced to impregnate, but only after they manage to find the old Citadel’s breeding records. He goes through pages and pages before he finds himself, but it’s obvious enough that it’s him. Almost all the other men in the book have names, many of them sounding like they may have belonged to Warboys, but there he is, listed simply as “O-negative blood bag.” He reads across the line to find her name: Kerra.  
  
He can barely face her when he meets her, and quietly asks Furiosa if he can speak with the woman alone. He was such a mess of forced overstimulation and need when he had last met Kerra, and the shame of what he did is almost too much. He can’t stand the thought of Furiosa finding out that he had fucked this woman practically willingly, like some mad, desperate animal.  
  
He can’t look her in the eye after Furiosa leaves. He holds his arms protectively close to his body and tries to swallow back the tightness in his throat. “I’m sorry…” He finally says. “‘M so sorry.”  
  
She looks at him for a long time, taking in his body language and the shaking of his hands before she speaks. “You gave me a child. You don’t need to apologize for that.”  
  
“I never would have…” He clears his throat. “I wasn’t myself. They… They made me…” He breaks off the sentence with a shake of his head. He doesn’t want to make excuses. He should have had more control of himself than that. “I didn’t want that. It was wrong.”  
  
“If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else.” She steps forward, one hand on her belly. “I don’t blame you for anything.”  
  
Max looks up, meeting her eyes for the first time, but only briefly. She’s looking at him like he’s a novelty, like she’s never seen a man care so much before.  
  
“You’re the one, aren’t you?” She asks when Max doesn’t offer up any response.  
  
Max lets out a weak, questioning sound.  
  
“The one who helped Furiosa and Joe’s wives. She said it was your idea to turn around and come back.”  
  
After a moment, Max nods.  
  
She steps forward again and takes his hand gingerly, guiding it slowly to her stomach. “Then you saved this child from becoming a blood bag. Whatever wrong you think you’ve done, I’d say you’ve made up for it.”  
  
Max stares down at his hand. “Mmh.”  
  
*****  
  
His nightmares are worse here, plaguing him even when he’s awake. He doesn’t even know how many times he’s had to shake a vision away and tell himself that he’s safe and free, that he’s only here because he wants to be. He wakes up over and over again in the night, covered in sweat, flailing against the hands he’s sure he can feel on his body, and even after he’s awake the images replay in his head, nightmares filled with pain and violation and shame. They barely let him sleep at all.  
  
Except, he discovers, when he holds one of his babies. He would never have let himself sleep with one even nearby, knowing how violently he tends to wake, but one afternoon Seren lets him take care of Nova for a while, and he’s so exhausted, and she calms him so much, that without meaning to, he drifts off with her cradled against his chest. He wakes up calmly and quietly, and not quite refreshed, but feeling more rested than he can remember in a long time.  
  
He doesn’t move for quite a while after he wakes, and tries to keep his breathing even and slow as Nova sleeps on his chest. He could stay like this for hours, just watching her, the peace on her face, the small fistful of his shirt in her hand. He imagines the innocence of her dreams. He greets her with a fond smile when she finally wakes on her own, and he kisses her head gently.  
  
Melody is going to give him Rev for most of the next day, so he tries to sleep more that night. He doesn’t want to be tired for a day with his son, and having gotten some restful sleep earlier that day gives him hope that it is possible here.  
  
He finds himself pinned, his face pressed into sheets, the familiar smell his own sweat and fear filling his nostrils. There are hips pressed against his ass, a cock so deep inside him that Max doesn’t know how his body can possibly take it. Hands grip him tightly, fingers pressing bruises into his skin. The cock pulls back then plunges in again, tearing into his body with a shot of agony that makes him scream. He struggles and fights and yells as it pounds him violently, but nothing can stop it.  
  
He wakes with a cry, his fists swinging, his body covered in sweat. He’s sprawled on the floor beside the wooden-framed bed and lumpy mattress he had been on before he went to sleep, and he scrambles up and away from the bed.  
  
He spends the rest of the night crouched in the corner, rocking himself slowly. He can’t stay here any longer. His own mind is going to kill him if he does, or drive him so far into madness that they’ll have to lock him up. It’s frustrating, because he knows he’s safe, that of all the places he could go this is the least likely place for him to be hurt again. But the memories of it being the worst of places are still too fresh.  
  
He spends the next day with Rev, enjoying the relative peace in his head while it lasts, and the cheerful nature of the boy, and then goes to Juni and asks if he can have a bit more time with Tal before he leaves.  
  
“I thought you would stay,” she says quietly, picking up Tal and passing him over to Max.  
  
Max shakes his head, pulling the baby close and rubbing his back. “Too many memories here. Can hardly sleep. ‘M afraid I’ll snap if I stay.”  
  
She looks at him understandingly and nods. “Will you ever come back?”  
  
“After a time. Just… Need to clear my head.” Max looks over at Tal as he wiggles and babbles, patting his arm repeatedly against Max’s shoulder in the uncoordinated way that babies do. Max smiles and kisses the side of his head.  
  
He packs up his car later that night. He’s tired, but he can’t spend another night here, and knows that he wouldn’t be any more rested if he did. If he can get far enough away tonight, maybe the nightmares will leave him alone, or at least back off a little. Furiosa wishes him well and gives him food, water, and guzzoline, already packed up, like she knew all along that he was going to leave soon. Seren comes to say goodbye as well, and he gives Nova one last kiss before he gets in his car and drives off, blinking away tears. He can’t help but look back over his shoulder as the silhouette of the Citadel disappears behind him.  
  
He drives away knowing that he will be welcome to come back whenever he’s ready. He leaves knowing that his children have a place to grow up safe and happy and healthy and he can be a part of that. He leaves knowing that when he can’t be there to protect them, Furiosa will. And he leaves knowing that despite all the pain it had caused him, the Citadel had still shown him that some broken things can be fixed.


End file.
